


Glorious III

by SilverHeart09



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Short stories for season 12!, Whump, also the Doctor meets Anne Lister, can you guess what happens next, thasmin, thorsair
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:21:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 44,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22164745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverHeart09/pseuds/SilverHeart09
Summary: A series of short stories for the Thirteenth Doctor and her fam <3
Relationships: The Corsair/Thirteenth Doctor, Thirteenth Doctor/Jack Harkness, Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Comments: 426
Kudos: 538





	1. and then it's just too much, the streets, they still run with blood

**Author's Note:**

> I had a much fluffier first chapter planned but then that image of Graham with that damn cube appeared and that was it!  
> Fluffier chapter will be up next. 
> 
> Chapter title is from '100 Years' by Florence and the Machine.

There was a cube on the console.

It was small and glowing brightly, as though filled with energy. It rather reminded Graham of that thing that villain from the superhero movie was obsessed with. Lowkey? Was that the name? The guy with the horns? Honestly he wouldn’t be surprised if the cube thing actually existed, it certainly wouldn’t be the weirdest thing he’d have to deal with on his travels with the Doc. Once you got past the fact he currently  _ lived in a time machine,  _ anything became possible. 

He pushed that thought out of his head, he’d be there for ages trying to remember the names of all those characters, and he scrutinised the cube instead. He was sure it hadn’t been there yesterday, at least he didn't think it had, but the Doc wasn’t really one for leaving things lying around. He’d seen inside her workshop, on the rare occasions a human was allowed in, and whilst that was always a complete mess he knew she preferred to keep the console room neat and tidy; though her coat usually found its place draped across the console on more than one occasion; much to the TARDIS’ annoyance.

He knew better than to touch mysterious cubes, though he had to admit this one was rather drawing him in. It had an almost iridescent quality to it and as he knelt in front of it it only seemed to glow a little brighter, as though asking him to touch it, inviting him in.

He tilted his head at it in curiosity, wondering what on earth it could be.

‘I’ve not seen you lying around,’ he said to it, though he wasn’t expecting a response. ‘Where did you appear from?’

He reached out a hand, fingers pausing just before the smooth surface. There were symbols on it, circles and other shapes, and he checked no-one was looking before taking a deep breath and picking up the cube.

He dropped it immediately and it clattered to the ground, though thankfully didn't break; the Doc likely wouldn’t thank him for that. There had been a voice that had  _ pushed  _ itself into his head, soft and gentle and pleading.

It had been the Doctor. 

He looked around again, chewing on his bottom lip thoughtfully. It was the Doc’s property, she wouldn’t want him snooping, yet she told them nothing then just left mysterious boxes lying around like she didn't expect them to pick them up.

So he did just that. 

_ If anyone can hear me, this is the Doctor.  _

Graham almost dropped the cube again at the slight pleading tone to her words but he hung onto it, keeping it held securely in his hands. 

_ I’ve been home, I know what the Master did, I need to know if anyone survived. _

Graham knew he should put the cube down. He should  _ really  _ put the cube down. Like now. In the next five seconds. In five seconds he was going to put the cube down. Definitely. 

_ If you can hear me - if anyone can hear me - please respond. _

She sounded broken, worse than broken: hopeless. He’d never heard her so miserable and it was a horrible thing to hear. The Doctor without hope. But what had the Master done? She’d gone home but when? Yaz had asked if they could visit but she’d brushed it off and Yaz hadn’t wanted to push, remarking to them later it seemed to be a bit of a sore point. 

_ Send me a message or come and find me, please.  _

Who was she talking to? What had the Master done?

_ Don’t leave me alone. _

Her voice disappeared from his mind and Graham found he was crying. She’d sounded so sad, so alone. She talked all the time but it was never about anything important, never about how she was feeling. She talked as though she wanted to fill the gaps inbetween the quiet without really wanting to  _ say  _ anything. 

She talked as though she was alone, despite the three friends she surrounded herself with. Yet if you didn't speak to your friends, to the people that love you about what bothers you, then you really are alone - aren’t you?

He put the cube down with shaking hands and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. The console room was still mercifully empty. What had he come here for again? Oh yeah, suncream. The Doc seemed to have everything in her pockets apart from that. 

Back outside with his friends in Tranquility Spa, he found his grandson already lounging in a sunchair and Yaz and the Doctor sitting together on the edge of the pier with their shoes off and feet dangling into the water. Yaz had her head tilted up towards the sun, smiling happily, the Doctor was looking down at the water; almost contemplating it thoughtfully. Her face was blank, expression unreadable, and Graham realised it was because no-one was looking at her. 

‘Here you go, Doc,’ he said, handing her the bottle. ‘Before your neck burns.’ 

She seemed almost surprised by the gesture but in an instant her bright, cheery facade was back up and she took the bottle from him gratefully, launching into a tale about who it was that had created suncream and how she’d gone tenpin bowling with them as she lathered the back of her neck in the stuff. 

Graham sat beside her, remained quiet, and kept his smile as his heart broke for whatever it was his friend had lost. Her home? The Master? Her family? She’d never say, but at least he - and the others - could make her feel a little less alone. 

If only she’d let them. 


	2. her sweet kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the fluff can wait till the next chapter XD Sorry!
> 
> I was listening to 'Her Sweet Kiss' from The Witcher OST (which I binged over Christmas like everyone else I think) and this popped into my head this morning. Listening to that song while reading does add to the atmosphere but it's only a minute and a half long so you'd have to keep restarting it! Defo play it though, it's a lovely tune.

The Doctor wasn’t a fan of bars, but she loved brooding as much as the next person and this seemed to be one of the best bars to do it in, ruffians and thugs aside. 

Her beer glass didn't seem particularly clean either, but considering she hated the stuff anyway she was willing to look past that. 

‘Doctor? What are you doing here?’

A woman dropped into the seat next to her, depositing her sword on the table as she regarded the Doctor with concerned brown eyes, loose dark hair spilling over her shoulders.

The Doctor only smiled at her, mind hazy through the thin layer of alcohol that had managed to permeate her bloodstream. Just because she hated beer, didn't mean she wasn’t going to drink it anyway. She’d decided to take a page from the humans’ book for once and drink to forget, though that rarely got them anywhere productive.

‘You are sloshed,’ the Corsair observed, slender fingers tilting up the Doctor's chin so she could examine her face closely. She moved a little closer and the scent of her perfume drifted up the Doctor's nose. They’d been dancing around each other for years yet still it only took the smell of her to send the Doctor's old hearts racing in her chest. 

‘You’re not sloshed enough,’ the Doctor shot back, but the Corsair only frowned and sniffed at her beer. 

‘What are you drinking this rubbish for? Hold on.’

She disappeared and came back with a bottle of something deep red and two glasses, pouring them each a generous measure before sitting beside her friend and watching as the Doctor took an appreciative gulp from her glass; the alcohol hitting her hard and fast and sending her mind reeling. 

The Corsair observed her closely as she drank from her own glass, noting the dark circles under the Doctor's eyes, the lack of bounce in her hair, the oil stain on the sleeve of her coat. She was unkempt but hiding it well. Not well enough though. 

‘So,’ the Corsair said carefully, when the Doctor had finished her drink and she was pouring her another. ‘Back to my earlier question: what _are_ you doing here? This is hardly your scene.’

‘I was looking for you,’ the Doctor mumbled, lips heavy. ‘I saw your ship parked outside.’

‘Looking for me?’ 

The Corsair was confused and also a little worried, not only by her friend’s general appearance but also by her behaviour. The Doctor wasn’t one to wallow in self pity, the Corsair had always known her to prefer to get on to the next thing and push whatever was bothering her deep down below, but this thing was clearly too big to push.

‘Can’t I look for my friend?’ the Doctor slurred, taking sips of her drink that were so large the Corsair had to take the glass out of her hand to force her to slow down. 

‘Always,’ the Corsair said softly. ‘You know I’m always glad to see you. You just very rarely show up like - well…’ she flapped a hand at her in an attempt to get her point across, ‘ _this._ What happened? Where are the humans?’

The Doctor gestured with her thumb behind her and through the gritty and smeared windows of the bar the Corsair saw her TARDIS, blue light shining in the darkness of the little sea port they were moored in.

‘They’re all asleep,’ the Doctor said, reaching for her glass and plucking it out of the Corsair’s hand. 

She finished it and sat for a moment, head in her hands and hair hanging limp around her face. The Corsair had never seen her so destitute before and it scared her a little, this wasn’t the Doctor she usually hung around with. This Doctor had lost her - 

Well, herself; by the looks of things.

The Corsair tucked a hesitant arm around the Doctor's shoulders and tilted her chin so she could look at her properly, green eyes glazed and red rimmed against the dark circles beneath them. 

‘And when’s the last time you slept?’ the Corsair asked, as gently as she could.

‘I don’t need sleep,’ the Doctor muttered, and the Corsair smiled softly. 

‘Yes. I think you do. Come on.’

She retrieved her sword, clipping it onto her belt before hoisting the Doctor up and almost dragging her to the door; the other woman wobbly and uncooperative on her feet. It was cold outside and the chill sea air smacked them both in the face. The Corsair paused between their two ships, wondering which one to go to. She waited for the Doctor to chime in but she only hung, limp from her arm with her gaze fixed firmly on the floor. 

In the end, it was the Doctor's TARDIS she dragged them both through, the console chirping at her arrival as though welcoming her in. It was a while since she’d been in there last but it was no less calming or orange, though there seemed to be the addition of some stairs that she was sure hadn’t been there last time. 

‘Nice job,’ she said, patting the console. ‘Love the hexagons. Very beehive.’

The TARDIS whirred appreciatively and the Corsair tightened her grip on her drunk friend and dragged her up the steps, encouraging her to lift her feet at every step so she didn't whack her ankle against the metal. 

She pondered with the thought of dragging her into bed but changed her mind. From experience the Doctor would only go to bed if she was tricked into it so she instead headed towards the library, finding the room warm and sparsely lit as a roaring fire crackled in front of the sofas. 

‘Here,’ she said, depositing the Doctor as carefully as she could into one of the chairs and removing her long coat to tuck over her friend, rolling up her shirt sleeves as she settled next to her and put up her feet; her toes already warming as she stretched out towards the heat from the fire. 

The Doctor pressed herself against the Corsair’s side, head resting on her shoulder as the fire reflected flames in her eye. The Corsair, unused to being snuggled, paused for a moment before carefully tucking her arm around the Doctor's shoulders; hopefully a reassuring weight if nothing else. 

‘You said you were looking for me but you’ve barely said a word to me,’ she told the Doctor quietly, fingers running carefully through tangled blonde hair. ‘A problem shared and all that.’ 

‘I just wanted to remind myself,’ the Doctor whispered, grip tight in the Corsair’s shirt. With her ear pressed against her chest she heard the once reassuring sound of the Corsair’s hearts beating and she pulled away, tucking herself under the Corsair’s chin instead as she tried to shove all memories from the Master out of her head. 

‘Remind yourself of what?’ the Corsair asked softly, reaching out to grab a blanket to fling over the pair of them. 

The Doctor pressed herself a little closer, drawing up her knees and disappearing beneath the mound of coverings on top of her. It was warm under here and the Corsair was soft and real and _alive_ beside her. If she ignored the fact she’d deliberately crossed her own timeline and risked ripping a hole in the fabric of spacetime to find her, it was definitely worth it. 

The Corsair repeated her question but the Doctor didn't answer. What could she say? _I wanted to remind myself there is still a timeline where you’re all still alive._ That would prompt questions. That would prompt a _lot_ of questions which she really didn't want to have to answer right now. Best to be silent and enjoy her company, though with the alcohol swirling and burning her system she knew she was hardly being the best host right now. That hardly mattered. The Corsair treated every building she was in as though she owned it, not that the TARDIS could really be counted as a building. 

‘Doctor…’

The Corsair tilted her face up again, fingers soft against her chin, and the Doctor's eyes slid shut as warm lips pressed against her own. No matter what body either of them were in, the Corsair always knew what she wanted and was always happy to oblige. 

‘I’m assuming this wasn’t a booty call,’ the Corsair whispered when she’d pulled away and the Doctor was panting quietly, desperate for more.

‘No,’ she replied, shaking her head and regretting it as the alcohol made the room spin. The Corsair gripped her shoulders, grounding her, and when she swung her legs over the Doctor's to straddle her lap the Doctor didn't stop her. 

‘Whatever you’re feeling,’ the Corsair said quietly, lips warm at the Doctor's neck, ‘you don’t have to feel it alone.’

‘I can’t share it with you,’ the Doctor mumbled, voice cracking though she tried to hide it.

The Corsair considered this then shrugged and removed her shirt, throwing it to the ground. 

‘Then let me take your mind off it,’ she whispered, and the Doctor gladly gave herself over to her. 

\-----------

In the morning, when Yaz had finally remembered she’d left her jacket in the library the night before after the Doctor had disappeared, she paused in the doorway; one hand on the wood as she took in the sight in front of her. 

The Doctor and the Corsair were tangled together, both fast asleep and - judging by the clothes on the floor - both clearly naked under the blankets. It was a rather touching scene, though Yaz was well aware it was equally an inappropriate one to be walking in on and disturbing, and she was just about to turn and walk away when Ryan headed down the corridor towards her with his mouth already open to ask a question.

Yaz shoved her hand against his mouth, muffling his question as she gestured to the two women sleeping soundly on the sofa. The Doctor's face was flushed pink and she looked so exhausted Yaz didn't doubt she could cartwheel into the room and her friend wouldn’t notice. The Corsair on the other hand…

She spotted her jacket tucked over the back of a chair in the corner of the room but decided it could wait, it didn't look like they were planning on going anywhere anytime soon.

‘Well I’m glad she’s talking to someone,’ Graham said, appearing from nowhere beside them. ‘Even if it’s not us.’

‘I don’t think they did much talking,’ Ryan whispered, and Yaz shoved him back down the corridor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to make the ending soft, with the fam grateful the Doctor's not completely alone with her thoughts, but I probably just made it seem like they're all perving on her instead which was NOT the intention!


	3. seems the woman that I love, is someone that I hardly know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still not done with the angst! Sorry!
> 
> Chapter title is from 'Losing My Mind' by Maroon 5.

The Doctor paused at Yaz’s bedroom door, peering carefully around it into the dark room as she contemplated what to do. 

It was later,  _ much  _ later, after her hesitant and extremely brief biography of herself to her stunned friends in the TARDIS console room, and she’d been hiding from them ever since; holed up in the engine room where the humans weren’t allowed making needless repairs to an already fully functioning shield matrix.

She’d thought it was best. She didn't like answering questions about herself at the best of times but then Yaz had asked to visit her home and she’d only just been able to keep herself together. She fancied she could still taste the ash and dust at the back of her throat, crawling into her lungs and choking her on the acrid stench of her burning homeworld. Ryan and Graham were also both in bed. She’d passed their rooms on the way to Yaz’s and had heard quiet snores from within, both men sleeping peacefully. 

Yaz, on the other hand, most certainly wasn’t.

She’d kicked her duvet to the floor and was curled in a ball on the mattress, whimpering quietly as her fists clenched in the sheets and sweat broke out on her forehead. She looked miserable and the Doctor wasn’t sure what to do. She’d only been alerted to Yaz’s plight by the quiet sounds of distress she’d heard drifting down the corridor and hadn’t expected to find her in this state. If Yaz had been having nightmares she’d been keeping them quiet. 

Yaz gasped, rolling onto her back and making a quiet sound of pain. 

‘Doctor… help me…’

It was mumbled and she was definitely still asleep, but the Doctor found herself stepping into Yaz’s room and crossing the carpeted floor before she could stop herself, unable to ignore her friend when she was calling out for her; even if it was in her sleep.

She paused beside the bed and reached down to lift her discarded duvet, tucking her back in underneath it before sitting beside her and hesitantly pausing with a hand above her head. What she was thinking about doing was about to cross some serious boundaries, but Yaz was upset and she’d  _ asked  _ for help. She needed her. 

The Doctor carefully placed her hand on Yaz’s forehead and was sucked down into the depths of her dreams, fear clutching at her hearts as she was dragged into Yaz’s nightmare. 

Yaz was tied up, lying on the floor in the same position she was in now as she screamed and begged for help. Graham and Ryan were both slumped against a wall, clearly dead. As the Doctor moved through Yaz’s dream she felt Yaz’s terror, her desperation, her loss as she sobbed and begged and tried to get free. They were in the TARDIS, in the console room. It was almost destroyed, burning like her home and filling the room with smoke and fire. The Doctor saw her own dead body dropped like a sack of potatoes on the ground in front of Yaz who screamed and tried to reach out for her, flung there by -

Her hearts clenched and she growled. 

The Master snarled at Yaz, teeth bared in a sickening smile. His eyes were blazing and as he pointed a gun at Yaz’s head the Doctor intervened, grabbing Yaz’s shoulder and dragging her out. 

She projected a different image into Yaz’s head when she felt her stirring, about to wake. The first one that came into her mind. Deep red grass, silver trees, twin suns shining in a burnt orange sky. In this dream, Gallifrey still stood in one piece and the citadel shone in its glass dome, glinting as it almost glowed against the horizon. The cheerful shouts and cries of children drifted up through the sunlight soaked valley and Yaz smiled and stretched out her arms, moving in circles as she took in her new surroundings. In the distance, the snow-capped mountains of Solace and Solitude sparkled like diamonds and Yaz flopped down and stretched out on the grass, closing her eyes as she tucked her arms underneath her head and soaked up the sunshine. 

The Doctor observed her for a moment, happy, peaceful, and stepped away, pulling herself out of Yaz’s head and away from her dream to find tears on her cheeks, oil on her hands, and Yaz now sleeping peacefully. 

She stroked back sweaty hair from Yaz’s forehead and tucked her in, watching her breathe quietly for a few moments before leaving the room and closing the door quietly behind her. 

At least someone could still experience the wonder of her homeworld, even if she never would again. 


	4. where do you go when the light leaves your eyes and you're just out of reach like a tree-bound kite?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I FIXED IT CAUSE THE FAM WERE ASSHOLES TO THIRTEEN IN THAT EPISODE COME ON.  
> Chapter title from 'Off She Goes' by Bad Suns.

‘Is the Doctor alright?’

The question took Yaz by surprise and for a second she could only blink at her mum, before she shrugged and went back to cleaning the plates in the sink with a sponge. 

‘Dunno. Something’s up but she’s not talking about it.’

‘Have you tried talking to her about it?’

Najia put down the plate she’d been drying and leaned against the counter, looking at her daughter with an eyebrow raised. 

‘Shut up, course I have,’ Yaz protested. ‘She just… won’t talk about it.’

‘She talks about everything,’ Najia prompted, gesturing with her head towards the living room where the Doctor and Hakim were currently engaged in a debate about whether or not there actually  _ were  _ aliens in Area 51, whilst Graham listened in fascination and Ryan and Sonya chatted about - something. She wasn’t sure how she felt about her little sister crushing on her best mate, best keep out their conversations. 

‘Not about the things that matter though,’ Yaz said quietly, and Najia frowned. 

‘She sounds like she needs a friend, Yaz.’

‘She’s got three best ones!’ Yaz said, louder than intended so it caught the attention of her family in the other room. 

‘Who’s got three?’ the Doctor asked, her face the picture of innocence. ‘Three what?’

‘Three children, my cousin, massive family,’ Yaz brushed her off, and Najia noticed the Doctor's face fall for a second at the blatant lie before going back to her conversation with Hakim. 

‘Well if you treat her like that, I’m not surprised she isn’t opening up to you,’ Najia said crossly. 

‘I’m not treating her like anything,’ Yaz said. ‘I’m trying to be her friend but it’s hard when she knows everything about me and I know virtually nothing about her. Why do you care? I thought you didn't even like her.’

‘I like her well enough,’ Najia said. ‘But it’s obviously upsetting you too.’ 

Yaz put the saucepan she’d almost scrubbed into oblivion onto the drying rack and tilted her head, looking down sadly into the dishwater. 

‘I’m trying, mum,’ she said. ‘Honestly I am. We all are. She’s just so stubborn when she’s in a mood.’ 

‘That sounds familiar,’ Najia said, looking at her eldest daughter pointedly. 

‘Do you need a hand, Yaz’s mum?’ the Doctor asked, appearing behind them and hovering anxiously. 

‘It’s Najia,’ Najia told her for the six-hundredth time. ‘And actually, yes. Would you mind helping Yaz dry the dishes while I put the rest of the food away?’

‘Definitely,’ the Doctor said with a grin. ‘Expert dish-dryer me. I won a contest once! I dried three hundred dishes in two minutes. You don’t realise how many muscles you use drying dishes until you suddenly find yourself using all of them.’

‘I’ll leave you two to it, then,’ Najia said, with another pointed look at Yaz. 

Yaz expected the Doctor to start rabbiting away immediately but, to her immense surprise, she was quiet instead; carefully drying the bowls and plates and stacking them neatly at the side of the sink. 

‘Was I alright?’ she said after a long moment, and Yaz looked up at her. 

‘Alright?’

‘At dinner. I know I’m not amazing with smalltalk.’

‘You did great,’ Yaz said softly, smiling at her. ‘Really.’

‘And I stuck to the right century?’

‘More or less,’ Yaz said, considering the question. ‘Don’t worry though. Graham chimed in when you were about to go off on a wrong-century tangent.’

‘Ah, good. I can always count on Graham.’

She went back to being quiet, efficiently drying forks and glasses and even rinsing out the empty food tins for the recycling. Yaz remembered the Dregs and her heart twisted uncomfortably in her chest. 

‘Every little helps, Yaz,’ the Doctor murmured reassuringly, sensing her friend’s anxiety, and Yaz nodded though she felt like someone was sitting on her chest. 

‘Doctor?’ she said quietly, hand on a plate as she scrubbed away at dried rice. ‘Are you okay?’

The Doctor froze for a split second, panic flashing across her face, but when she turned her head to look at Yaz it was blank and unreadable. 

‘Yeah, course I am.’

‘Cause if you’re not,’ Yaz continued quickly, eager to carry on the conversation now she’d been brave enough to start it, ‘you can talk to me. Or Ryan, or Graham. This is the stuff family talks about.’

‘I’m honestly fine, Yaz,’ the Doctor said and Yaz felt herself growing angry. If she had a problem she wouldn’t hesitate to speak to the Doctor about it. Why was the Doctor so stubborn and unwilling to do the same? Maybe they weren’t the family she thought they were.

‘I’m just saying,’ Yaz pressed on, knowing she was about to step on a nerve. ‘If you’re gonna carry on stomping around the TARDIS at night we’d rather know if there was a reason behind it, or if you were just trying to wake us up.’

‘I’d never try and wake you up,’ the Doctor protested. ‘I know how grumpy Graham gets when he doesn’t get enough beauty sleep.’

She was trying to brush her off with humour, Yaz realised, and she gripped the plate in her hand. She shouldn’t push, the Doctor would only close herself off if she did, but she was  _ trying.  _

‘I’ll try not to stomp though,’ the Doctor added quietly. ‘Sorry, I didn't realise I was doing that.’

She did sound sorry, and a little anxious, and Yaz felt the anger melt like ice from around her heart. 

‘Just come with me,’ she said, leaving the plate in the sink and taking the Doctor's hand to pull her towards Yaz’s bedroom, closing the door and sitting down on the bed once they were inside and the Doctor was stood dithering in the doorway, unsure of what to do with herself. 

‘Sit,’ she said sternly, patting the space next to her and to her utmost surprise, the Doctor did just that.

‘I know you’re not telling me something,’ Yaz continued, interjecting quickly when the Doctor opened her mouth to speak. ‘And normally that would be okay, but I think this is a  _ big  _ thing and I think it’s got something to do with the Master.’

The Doctor's face paled and Yaz realised she was probably about three seconds from throwing herself out the window to escape the conversation. She’d better tread lightly. 

‘I’m just guessing,’ Yaz said, as softly as she could. ‘But I think he did something to upset you.’

‘There’s never anything that man does that doesn’t upset me,’ the Doctor whispered quietly, unexpectedly, and Yaz felt her heart flutter.  _ Finally. Contact. _

‘Is there anything in particular you need to get off your chest?’ Yaz asked. ‘Sometimes it’s better if you talk about these things.’

The Doctor shook her head forlornly. 

‘No. Sorry, Yaz. Talking isn’t going to make this any better.’

She looked heartbroken and when Yaz pressed against her and tucked an arm around her to pull her in the Doctor didn't pull away. 

‘You’re really not fine, are you?’ she whispered, and the Doctor's silence was answer enough. 

Yaz sat there for a moment, arm around the Doctor's shoulders, waiting for her to speak up, but when it was clear she wasn’t going to say another word she stretched out on her bed instead, patting the space beside her for the Doctor to lie down on. 

‘I don’t need a nap, Yaz,’ the Doctor said, confused, and Yaz’s eyebrows shot up into her hair. 

‘I think you probably do, but I’m not trying to make you have a nap. I’m trying to cuddle you. Get down here.’

Hesitantly, the Doctor stretched out alongside her so they were facing each other and Yaz could wriggle forward and wrap gentle arms around the Doctor's torso, face pressed against the top of her forehead as she held her. Initially the Doctor was hard and uncooperative in her arms, but after a moment she relaxed and curled instinctively into Yaz, drawing up her knees to her chest. 

‘See? Not so bad,’ Yaz said quietly. ‘This is what you’re missing out on everytime you decide to keep things to yourself. I don’t expect you to tell me every little thing that goes on in that massive head of yours, but don’t ever shut yourself away because you think we don’t care. We  _ do  _ care, and the next time you feel mardy, or lonely, or upset, come and find me and I’ll either cuddle you or show you how to box. I know you hate violence but there’s nothing like taking it out on an inanimate object to really make you feel better.’ 

The Doctor was quiet and when Yaz looked down at her she noticed her mouth was open a little, eyes shut and cheeks flushed a soft pink. She was fast asleep. 

‘See, knew you needed a nap,’ Yaz said, pulling her closer and rolling her eyes. 

Ryan and Graham snuck their heads round the door to say goodbye a few minutes later, but when they saw the Doctor curled against Yaz and Yaz holding her whilst also reading a book they both grinned twin smiles. 

‘Well done, cockle,’ Graham said to Yaz. ‘Guess we’ll be seeing you two in the morning.’

He turned to leave and Ryan held up his phone to Yaz, triumphant. 

‘Got your sister’s number,’ he said, then left the room before Yaz had a chance to yell. 


	5. I'm well acquainted with villains that live in my head

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not massively happy with this one but meh *shrug emoji*
> 
> Chapter title is from 'Control' by Halsey

It was pitch black and they were freezing cold by the time the four travellers made it back to the village, shoes filled with mud and rainwater as they squelched their way back down the hill. 

It had been another one of those ‘let’s explore this beautiful forest full of amazing animals oh no wait the village is being haunted by yet another alien masquerading as a malevolent spirit’ situations that the Doctor seemed to constantly be dragging them into, and by the time the alien had been dealt with and they were on their way back to the village the heavens had opened and they were now soaked to the skin. 

The Doctor was leading the way in the dark, her feet slipping on the muddy ground as she shivered under a sodden coat. This certainly hadn’t been the quick trip to the Sunshine Forests of Conpraxion Nine she’d been hoping for and she was starting to get the feeling that her fam were mad at her,  _ properly  _ mad at her. They’d barely said a word all the way back and now it was up to her to pull herself together and lead them back down the hill towards the village; though her feet were blistered and her hands burnt after she’d destroyed the recal matrix on the alien’s ship to stop him ever coming back to terrorise this village. She’d received a nasty electric shock in return that had sent heat coursing through her palms and she hadn’t had a chance to properly examine the injury, though judging from the pain she knew it was bad. 

‘Almost there!’ she called back to her grumpy friends when the lights from the village below came into sight. There wasn’t a response and the Doctor swallowed hard and surged forwards, feeling tears prickling behind her eyes as her hands throbbed and her feet hurt with every step. She wasn’t used to this, to her fam being so quiet. They’d all been in equally horrible situations before but her fam was always there to cheer each other up, to find the funny side and keep themselves in good spirits. Now though they were silent, and the Doctor felt utterly alone. 

Back in the village inn - the TARDIS was parked way too far away to even consider making a trek to in the horrible weather - they were greeted with bright smiles and happy cheers from the locals who were grateful their evil spirit had been dealt with and they could go back to the cheery life they were used to. Graham, Ryan, and Yaz all situated themselves in front of the fire, shivering as they warmed their frozen hands and feet, and the Doctor finally had the chance to look at her palms. 

They were red, blistered, and swollen. The pain was excruciating and the Doctor felt her bottom lip trembling as she tried to hold back the tears. She wasn’t even sure why she wanted to cry. The pain was bad but it wasn’t the worst she’d ever experienced, all things considered. She looked over at her fam, all buried in blankets and lazing in front of the fire. They were still steadfastly ignoring her, and the Doctor realised with heavy hearts that she was going to have to start the long walk back to the TARDIS to find her first aid kit. If the burns weren’t already infected, they almost certainly would be by the time she got up in the morning. 

‘Jeez, love! What happened to you?’

The shout came from one of the locals who was standing in front of her before she even had time to blink, rough hands carefully holding her own as he gently twisted her wrists to examine her scorched skin.

‘Nasty burns you’ve got there,’ he said, whistling low through his teeth. ‘Don’t worry, I’ve got just the thing. Go run ‘em under cold water while I grab my medical bag, I’ll be back in a jiffy.’

‘Doc, why didn't you say anything?’

Graham had appeared at her side, alerted to the situation by the shout from the man who had now disappeared out into the rain. He looked worried and the Doctor could only blink at him, unsure what to say as Yaz and Ryan joined them; both looking slightly warmer but with concern etched onto their faces.

‘Mate, you’ve gotta tell us when you get hurt,’ Ryan said, too accusingly for her liking. 

‘It’s not like there was any medical facilities in the ship,’ she shot back, and she knew she was being harsh but it seemed entirely unfair that they’d spent the entire trip back ignoring her and  _ now  _ wanted to try and have a conversation. 

‘Doctor, that looks painful,’ Yaz said, more gently than the other two, and the kindness and worry in her words was almost too much and - to her utmost embarrassment - the Doctor felt a tear slide down her cheek. 

‘Come with me,’ the innkeeper said, a woman with soft eyes and a gentle face. ‘Let’s get these cleaned while our doctor grabs his bag. He only lives round the corner, he won’t be long. Are you hurting anywhere else?’

Her fam exchanged brief words as she was led away, and the Doctor saw Graham and Ryan dash upstairs whilst Yaz stayed beside her, her hand on the Doctor's lower back when she realised she was limping a little. 

The water stung and the Doctor hissed as it made contact, but after a few minutes the cold water had a pleasant numbing effect and she could feel the pain dulling slightly as she moved her hands in the water, making sure all the dirt and mud were washed from them. 

‘How did that happen?’ Yaz asked, sat silent beside her. 

‘Dodgy wiring on the alien’s ship,’ the Doctor muttered. ‘Burnt me when I took the recall out.’

Yaz looked horrified. 

‘But that was  _ two hours  _ ago. You’re seriously telling me you’ve been in that state for  _ two hours? Doctor.’ _

‘What?!’ the Doctor shot back, unnecessary anger coursing through her veins. ‘I can’t magically heal myself using mud and rainwater, Yaz! There was nothing you lot could have done to help me.’

The words hung heavy in the air, impossible to take back, and to the Doctor's horror she saw tears on Yaz’s face. 

‘Yaz…’ the Doctor dropped her head, hair falling across her face as guilt tugged at every inch of her. ‘I’m sorry.’

Yaz was silent for a moment, the only sound the water running over her burnt skin, but then warm arms wrapped around the Doctor's shoulders and Yaz pulled her in for a hug, face pressed into the Doctor’s still wet hair. 

‘Tell me what’s wrong,’ she begged, clutching her friend tightly. ‘Please. Tell me why you’re so sad.’ 

For a second, she almost did. She almost opened her mouth to tell her everything. The Master, the Time Lords, her home, but then she was interrupted by the arrival of Graham and Ryan bearing blankets and the moment was lost. 

‘Everything alright?’ Graham asked, looking from one distraught woman to the other. ‘You two look like you’ve been watching  _ Marley & Me.’ _

* * *

‘So?’ Graham whispered to the other two. ‘What do we reckon?’

‘She’s depressed,’ Yaz whispered back. ‘Completely and utterly depressed.’

‘Eh?’ Ryan said. ‘She still has her cheery moments though.’

‘Depressed people can still act like fully functioning members of society,’ Yaz reminded him. ‘You’ve gotta look at her when she thinks no-one’s looking, she’s not the same.’ 

Yaz, Graham, and Ryan were sat downstairs by the fire, now clean and in warmer clothes while the Doctor slept on the sofa beside them, drooling into the couch cushions. The village doctor had given her painkillers so he could repair the damage done to her hands, but they’d sent her vaguely loopy and - after about 30 minutes of her mumbling in a different language against Ryan’s shoulder while the doctor dressed her hands in clean bandages - the drugs had finally succeeded in completely knocking her out.

‘Why is she depressed though?’ Ryan said. ‘What started this all off?’

‘The Master,’ Graham realised. ‘She’s been acting weird ever since he showed up. What was he, a friend of hers?’

‘Best enemy is the term he used,’ Yaz remembered. ‘But I think he used to be her friend.’

‘That must be hard,’ Graham murmured. ‘Having a friend turn into such an egotistical psychopathic maniac.’ 

The three of them looked down at the Doctor, still snoring peacefully on the sofa with her bandaged hands resting comfortably on her stomach. The inn was quiet now and it was deep into the night, most of the guests already in bed or back in their own homes. The three humans were full of hot soup and had settled downstairs, preferring to all stay together by the fire than retire to their own separate rooms upstairs, especially when the Doctor was hurt.

‘I’ll be off to bed now, loves,’ the innkeeper said, looking down at the Doctor with concern. ‘What on earth did he give her? His stuff hardly ever knocks people out to that extent.’

‘She’s a bit of a lightweight,’ Graham chuckled, deciding it was probably best to keep the fact they were all entirely different species from the villagers here a secret. 

‘Well, I left some soup on the stove if she wakes up hungry,’ the innkeeper said, nodding towards the kitchen. ‘You just help yourselves.’

They said goodnight to her and the woman padded away upstairs as Ryan sat forward to put another log on the fire. 

‘We should try and sleep ourselves,’ Yaz yawned. ‘It’ll be a long walk back to the TARDIS in the morning.’ 

With the seating area to themselves the three of them were able to stretch out on the sofas and bury themselves under blankets and cushions. It was warm and cosy and Yaz stretched out next to the Doctor, taking care not to jostle her. She didn't think she’d ever seen the other woman  _ sleep  _ before, aside from when she passed out on Graham’s sofa and started glowing back when they first met, and there was something peaceful in watching her breathe quietly, her face relaxed for the first time in months. 

Yaz drifted off to the sound of the fire crackling, and Ryan talking in his sleep.

* * *

_ ‘Finally.’ _

_ The Doctor's eyes snapped open and she backpedaled immediately in panic, careening into the hanging strands dangling from nothingness in front of her. It was dark and cold but she knew where she was immediately, she’d never forget this place. _

_ The Master grinned at her, teeth white in the dim light.  _

_ ‘What - how did I -’ _

_ ‘You let your guard down.’ _

_ He stood and walked slowly towards her, arms swinging by his sides. Her limbs felt like jelly. She couldn’t move, could hardly breathe. Where were her fam? _

_ ‘Not here,’ the Master said, pausing with barely a foot between them. ‘I thought it’s about time you paid me a visit, considering you’re the one that landed me here.’ _

_ ‘That was on you,’ the Doctor growled. ‘You’ve had more than enough opportunities to prove yourself. You’re not having any more.’ _

_ The Master glared at her, eyes dark and dangerous. The Doctor tried to step back but she couldn’t, it was as though she was fused to the floor. _

_ ‘For whatever reason,’ the Master said, walking slowly around her like a shark circling its prey. ‘You let your telepathic defences down. Enough for me to slither my way in. You look well, aside from the hands.’ _

_ He grabbed them and the Doctor let out a cry of pain. She remembered now. The forest, the mud, the burns. What had that doctor given her? _

_ ‘Ah. Conpraxion Nine,’ the Master said, and the Doctor realised with horror he was in her head. ‘I know their stuff. Excellent herbal remedies. They tend not to agree with us so much though. You’ve got some vomiting to look forward to.’ _

_ ‘What do you want,’ the Doctor said quietly. ‘Cause if you dragged me here to try and scare me, that’s not going to work.’ _

_ ‘Even after what I did to Gallifrey?’ the Master laughed at her. ‘Come on, Doctor, I know you better than that.’ _

_ ‘Sloppy seconds,’ the Doctor glared at him. ‘Now you’re just copying me.’ _

_ ‘You destroyed Gallifrey to end the Time War and stop the universe from being destroyed,’ the Master reminded her. ‘I destroyed it because those lying tyrants deserved to pay. Have you worked it out, by the way? The Timeless Child.’ He paused, head tilted to one side as he observed her cautiously. ‘No. I can see you haven’t. You will, though. And when you do you’ll come running back to me.’ _

_ He was flickering in front of her and the Doctor was starting to feel sick, stomach twisting and rocking as though she was on a violently swaying ship out at sea during a storm.  _

_ It took her a few moments to realise she could hear the voices of her friends calling to her, and the sensation of their hands on her body shaking her roughly.  _

_ ‘Your little pets apparently need your attention,’ the Master said, stepping into her space and gripping her hair tightly to wrench back her head; exposing the slim column of her neck. He traced the skin with a finger, breath hot on her face. ‘I need your attention more,’ he whispered. ‘I’m the one you trapped here.’ _

_ Her friends were getting louder, their voices thundering into her ears, and the Doctor stumbled and fell to her knees as the Master loosened his grip on her hair and she was able to pull herself free of him; slamming up her psychic mental blocks as she glowered up at him, stomach turning in revulsion.  _

_ ‘See, Doctor?’ the Master said, stepping back with hands raised. ‘You always end up on your knees around me.’ He smirked at her, eyes twisting in hate. ‘You’ll find me again. We’re drawn together, like a moth to a flame.’ _

_ He knelt down beside her, hand gripping her shoulder tightly.  _

_ ‘And guess who the moth is,’ he hissed, then he shoved her and -  _

* * *

_ \-  _ the Doctor rolled onto her side and threw up the meager contents of her stomach over the sofa and onto the carpeted floor, stomach heaving and hearts pounding as gentle hands held her hair out of the way and a soft voice tried to soothe her, cutting through the fog in her mind until Yaz’s blurry face swam into view in front of her. 

‘I don’t think those painkillers agreed with you much, did they?’ Yaz said softly, before turning to Graham and Ryan. ‘Can you grab her some water?’

Ryan went off to the kitchen whilst Graham and Yaz helped the Doctor to sit up on the sofa, supporting her on either side as she struggled to get her breathing under control and her hearts back into a normal rhythm. She was back in the inn, she was with her friends, she was safe. 

Ryan handed a glass of water to Yaz and Yaz helped her drink it, supporting her bandaged hands against the glass until she drained the whole thing. Graham tucked a blanket over her knees and Ryan poked the dying embers of the fire until it roared back to life, crackling and lighting up the room in a warm glow. 

‘W-what happened?’ the Doctor mumbled. She felt sleepy though she could feel it wasn’t the drugs, her body had successfully purged them from her system and had left her with a throbbing headache. She felt as though she was coming down from a bad trip. 

‘You woke us up with your thrashing around,’ Ryan said. ‘Like you were fighting someone. We thought you were having a nightmare or something.’

_ Or something,  _ the Doctor considered. Though  _ nightmare  _ worked just as well. 

‘Yeah, you were crying out like you were in pain,’ Yaz said quietly. ‘Is it your hands? Do they hurt?’

The Doctor looked down at her bandages. She remembered the shock of pain that had stabbed through her palm after the Master had grabbed her, but miraculously the dressings were still clean and untouched. 

‘No,’ the Doctor said, wriggling her fingers. ‘They’re fine.’

‘Doc,’ Graham said cautiously, looking at the other two. ‘If there was something going on, something awful that was upsetting you, you’d tell us, right? Cause we’re your family?’

The Doctor was silent and that was answer enough. 

‘Alright then,’ Yaz said, looking at Ryan and Graham. ‘Well, if you won’t tell us what’s going on, let us help you. Food, hugs, whatever you need. Just tell us. Stop brooding and suffering in silence. You’ve got three friends here who love you.’

The Doctor blinked at them, face soft, and Graham chuckled. 

‘Older than religion and you’re as daft as the rest of them,’ he said. ‘Now come on you lot, back to bed. You hungry, Doc?’

She shook her head and laid back down on the sofa, closing her eyes almost as soon as her head hit the cushions. A few seconds later, a bowl was placed on the floor in front of her and Yaz’s gentle fingers brushed her hair off her face. 

‘In case you feel sick again,’ Yaz whispered gently, then a blanket was drawn up over her shoulders and she slept through the night with no nightmares, bad memories, or old enemies haunting her dreams; only Yaz pressed against her and Graham and Ryan on either side. 

  
  



	6. give me your heart, make it real

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had this one half finished for ages but I felt like I should post some fluff before I write more whump or angst! Have some Thasmin <3
> 
> Chapter title is from 'Smooth' by Santana (ft Rob Thomas) cause I REALLY STRUGGLED with this one and it's a good song.

‘I can’t believe out of all the places I could have died - way more epically, I hasten to add -  _ this _ is going to be how I go.’

The Doctor rolled her eyes. ‘Don’t be so dramatic, Yaz. I told you I’m gonna get you out of this and I am. And what do you mean  _ “epically” _ ? You don’t mind dying providing it’s “epic”? That’s such a Gen Z thing to say.’

‘Oi!’ 

Yaz turned round to fix the Doctor with a protesting glare, but the other woman was grinning as she entangled thick cables and wire from the inside of the wall panel and she found herself unable to be cross for long. The Doctor had that effect on her. One dazzling smile and she forgotten whatever it was she’d been mad at her for in the first place. 

Well, within reason. She still hadn’t quite forgiven her for turning up at the flat close to 3am, utterly wasted and giggling like a lunatic. 

‘I’m gonna get us out of here in no time at all,’ the Doctor said, sonic in her mouth as she examined the frayed edges of the wires. ‘Just gotta work out which bit goes where… they’ve really wired this up strangely you know. I could have done a much better job. Maybe I’ll leave them a note!  _ This is how it’s supposed to be done. Love, the Doctor.  _ I’ll put a smiley face next to it just to be  _ extra  _ patronising. Oh! Did I ever tell you about the smiley face robots that tried to kill me and my mate Bill? It was a nightmare. And totally Bill’s fault. Although I think I might have started it by trying to impress her. Basically what happened was -’ 

Yaz leaned back against the wall and listened to the Doctor chatter on absentmindedly as she soniced this and frowned at that. It was relaxing watching her work - aimless jabbering notwithstanding - and she looked out of the tiny porthole into the vast nothingness of space that stretched on into eternity outside it. 

It had been Ryan’s fault. Or maybe Graham’s. They’d wanted to see a real life spaceship - at which the Doctor and the TARDIS had obviously taken immediate offence - like something out of Star Trek or Star Wars or any other programs beginning with ‘Star’. The Doctor had brought them to the Galaxy Masterclass Emperium 9 Cruiser, complete with dancing, dinner, music and entertainment, and had wandered off to find the viewing deck whilst Graham had gotten himself comfy in an armchair with a plate of canapes and Ryan had found an indoor cinema showing a film in virtual reality. 

Yaz had followed the Doctor of course, keen to learn more about the galaxy they were in, but had regretted her decision immediately when the Doctor had accidentally led them both into an airlock.

Which had then locked behind the two of them. 

‘Not to worry!’ the Doctor had said cheerfully. ‘We won’t be jettisoned into space. The airlock recognises that there’s two idiots without space suits or the proper activation code in here so it’ll lock itself down until the authorities arrive. Shouldn’t be long, probably about ten minutes! Sorry, we’ll be out of here in a jiffy.’

‘Can’t you sonic it?’

‘No, deadlock panel.  _ Rude.’  _

Except a jiffy had turned into two hours, and after Yaz had mentioned that she was starting to feel a little unwell the Doctor had quietly admitted that they were running out of oxygen and had started her attempts to force the door open from the inside, without blowing them into space. 

That had been a while ago, and Yaz felt so  _ tired  _ and the Doctor's voice was so  _ soothing.  _ Surely a little snooze wouldn't hurt? 

Yaz came round suddenly to the Doctor’s hand on her shoulder and her gentle voice speaking urgently in the quiet stillness of their little pod.

‘Yaz. Yaz! Come on, stay with me.’

The Doctor knelt in front of her and shook Yaz’s arm until the other woman glared at her and battered her hand away with a frown. 

‘Gerroff.’ 

‘Sorry, Yaz,’ the Doctor apologetic-face-scronched, ‘but you’ve got to stay awake. I can’t have you falling asleep on me.’ 

She looked ill, Yaz realised. Her hair was sweaty and hanging limp across her face and there were dark circles under her eyes and a blue tinge to her lips. 

‘I thought you said you didn't need much oxygen to survive?’ Yaz said woozily, her head spinning as she reached out a hand to feel clammy, pale skin on the Doctor's face. 

‘I don’t. But I’m not breathing right now.’

_ ‘What?’ _

‘Respiratory bypass system,’ the Doctor explained, tapping her chest. ‘No need for lungs. I can voluntarily choose to stop breathing and use the oxygen reserves in my blood to keep all my vital organs going. Won’t last forever of course, but handy little trick.’

‘Why are you doing it now?’ Yaz asked, confused. ‘How low on oxygen are we?’

‘Very,’ the Doctor admitted, and Yaz realised she’d given up on trying to get the door open with the sonic, perhaps realising the task was useless. 

‘How long do you have?’

‘Don’t worry about me,’ the Doctor replied, waving off her concerns and sliding down to sit next to her. ‘Don’t worry about you either. You’re gonna be fine. You’ve got about another twenty minutes extra.’

‘And what about you?’

The Doctor rested her head against the wall of the pod and closed her eyes, and Yaz immediately shook her shoulder frantically until the blonde nudged her and opened her eyes to smile weakly at her. Her chest wasn’t moving up and down with the exertion of respiratory muscles, Yaz realised, and it seemed as though she really was just holding her breath. 

‘It’s gonna be fine, Yaz. The boys will be looking for us.’ 

‘How long has it been?’

The Doctor made a show of looking at her wrist, though Yaz knew she didn't wear a watch. 

‘Almost three hours. They’ll find us. Aaaaany minute now.’ 

Yaz rested her head against the Doctor’s shoulder and yawned, fingers finding the Doctor’s and curling around them. 

‘This isn’t such a bad way to go, I guess,’ Yaz said after a while. ‘I mean, I’m with you, so that’s something.’

‘You’re not going to go at all,’ the Doctor said, nudging Yaz in the ribs. ‘Neither of us are. We just gotta hang tight for a bit and try not to speak too much, it’ll waste oxygen.’

‘You mean  _ I  _ need to stop speaking, since you’ve apparently decided to turn off your lungs?’

‘Pulmonary tubes,’ the Doctor corrected her, but she shook her head in a  _ nevermind I’ll explain later  _ gesture at the horror on Yaz’s face. 

They were silent for a moment, both watching the stars glitter outside the window, until Yaz said: 

‘I wish I’d been kissed properly.’ 

The Doctor tilted her head to look at her in confusion, face scronched adorably again. 

‘You’ve never been kissed?’

‘Shut up, yes I have. Just not  _ properly,  _ you know? Only stupid teenage fumbles where neither of us really knew what we were doing and we both just want it to be over with as soon as possible so we could say we’d given it a go. Maybe that’s all kissing is?’

‘It is not!’ the Doctor said indignantly. ‘Why do you think people kiss so often if no-one enjoys it?’

‘I guess,’ Yaz said, tracing a heart in the condensation of her breath on the porthole glass. ‘I just wish I’d experienced that. Among… well, other things.’

‘I’m not sure I can help with the other things, given I don’t know what you’re referring to,’ the Doctor said, and Yaz smiled at her innocence. ‘But I’ll kiss you, if you like.’

Yaz looked at her, saw the soulful green eyes looking back at her, and realised she was being sincere. 

‘Wait, really?’

‘Yeah! If you like. I’ve had a lot of experience in kissing in my time. I’m over - actually, not sure. I’m  _ hella  _ old.’

Yaz laughed and then quickly pressed her hands over her mouth as she remembered the lack of oxygen situation. She allowed her head to tilt naturally towards the Doctor's, a soft smile on her face that she was starting to think was attributed to oxygen deprivation; along with the fact she was contemplating crossing the precarious line of friendship and kissing the Doctor at all. But if this was how she was going to get a snog from the woman she’d had a crush on for months, so be it. 

The Doctor smiled warmly at her and carefully cupped Yaz’s cheek in her hand. Her skin was cold, but the sensation was soothing and Yaz felt butterflies - and maybe something else - start to flutter and pulse in the pit of her stomach.

Yaz closed her eyes, leaned into the Doctor's touch and then -

She was being kissed. 

It was nothing like the teenage fumbles. Nothing even like anything she’d ever imagined in the dark with her hands on her body pretending they were someone else’s. It was  _ better. _

The Doctor's lips were warm and soft and her hand was holding Yaz’s cheek with such tenderness that Yaz thought she could melt into the touch. The Doctor's other hand was reaching for her waist, pulling her close, and Yaz sighed softly into the kiss as the Doctor’s arm wrapped around her and held her securely. 

Yaz slid one of her hands into the Doctor's hair, felt the soft strands beneath her fingers. She realised the Doctor had started breathing again, could practically feel the frantic pounding of her hearts as the Doctor moaned and pulled her closer. It was heated and heavy and a little rough and everything Yaz had ever imagined her first proper kiss would be  _ and more.  _

Yaz wondered if this was the first kiss in the Doctor’s new body. She felt kind of honoured to be the first recipient. 

The Doctor’s tongue slid into her mouth and Yaz gripped her suspenders to pull her closer. Yaz allowed the other woman to take the lead, feeling her tongue roaming every crevice of her mouth and her lips move naturally against Yaz’s. She tasted amazing. Like strawberries and champagne, and Yaz felt intoxicated by her. She wasn’t really sure what she was doing with her own tongue, but the Doctor didn't seem to complain and the heat in her belly grew stronger. She wanted  _ more  _ suddenly, needed more. Kissing was great but it wasn’t enough. If she was going to die she wanted to do it properly. 

She reached down and slid her hand under the fabric of the Doctor’s shirt, and the other woman faltered and pulled back to look at her with wide eyes.

‘Is that too much?’ Yaz whispered. Her head was spinning - though whether from the lack of oxygen or lust she wasn't sure - and her tongue felt heavy in her mouth, her lips swollen.

‘N-no,’ the Doctor stammered. ‘No, it felt… good.’

‘Do you want me to carry on?’

The Doctor nodded, and Yaz reached for her. Dying in an airlock was clearly a good time for firsts.

Then the door to the airlock slid open and clean, fresh air flooded the chamber. The Doctor and Yaz sprang apart as Ryan, Graham, and a number of the ship’s crew fell into the room holding oxygen masks and canisters.

‘We’ve been looking for you two for ages!’ Graham said. ‘What are you doing in here?’

‘Canoodling,’ Ryan said with a grin, and Yaz glared at him as a medic secured a mask across her face. 

‘Come on, up you get,’ Graham said, grabbing the Doctor's arm and helping her to her feet. ‘You both look like you’re gonna pass out.’

The corridor was full of blissfully refreshing oxygen - recycled or not - and Yaz took big gulps of it, the fog around her mind and the thumping in her head slowly beginning to recede. She could hear the Doctor arguing with one of the crew, something about  _ why isn’t there an emergency door release inside the hatch?!  _ and Ryan nudged her in the side.

‘So?’ he said with a pointed expression. ‘What  _ were  _ you two doing in the airlock?’ 

‘Trying to get out of it, mainly,’ Yaz said, rolling her eyes at him.

‘Huh,’ Ryan said thoughtfully. ‘Did sucking face help?’

Yaz spluttered and one of the medics came rushing over, oxygen mask in his hand, but Yaz waved him off. 

‘Yeah I saw you,’ Ryan grinned. ‘I don’t think Graham did though.’ 

‘Can we not talk about this, please,’ Yaz mumbled, face pressed into her hands. 

‘Hey, no judgement here,’ Ryan told her. ‘I’m just glad you and the Doctor finally admitted your feelings to each other.’

Yaz didn't look at him and Ryan made an exasperated noise.

‘Yaz.  _ Please  _ tell me you admitted your feelings.’

‘I thought I was gonna die!’ Yaz said, hands in the air. ‘I just made a comment about how I’ve never had a proper snog then the Doctor offered to then - well.’

‘Yeah, I saw,’ Ryan said. ‘And what I saw was two idiots who  _ clearly  _ have feelings for each other only making a move when they think they’re both gonna die.’ 

There was a crash from behind them and Ryan and Yaz turned around to find the Doctor passed out in the hallway, a medic already securing an oxygen mask across her face. 

‘Looks like lack of oxygen followed by yelling at technicians isn’t a good combination,’ Ryan said thoughtfully. 

* * *

Later, once they were all safely back in the TARDIS, Yaz climbed out of bed and headed into the console room to find the Doctor. She could hear muffled banging and swearing coming from under the floor and she realised there was a panel removed and the Doctor had climbed down underneath the console, barely visible in the dim light. 

‘How can you see what you’re doing?’ Yaz called down, and there was a  _ thump  _ then the Doctor appeared, rubbing her head reproachfully. There was a headlight wrapped around her head and she pointed at it by way of answer. 

‘You alright? Couldn’t sleep?’ the Doctor called up, clambering out of the hole and sitting on the edge; patting the space next to her. 

‘I was thinking about you, actually,’ Yaz said, swallowing hard. ‘About the airlock and - um - us.’

‘Ah,’ the Doctor said, and Yaz sat next to her and tucked her hands onto her lap, fiddling with the hem of her pyjama top as she tried to think of what to say next. 

‘That kiss,’ she said quietly. ‘That meant something, right? I mean, to  _ me  _ anyway, it felt like it meant something. 

‘Yaz…’ the Doctor said softly. ‘Of course it meant something.’ 

‘And you wanted to kiss me?’ Yaz checked. ‘You didn't just do it because you felt - I dunno, sorry for me.’

‘I don’t kiss anyone cause I feel sorry for them,’ the Doctor declared. ‘And I definitely don’t feel sorry for you now.’

Yaz looked up at her and the Doctor smiled. 

‘Does that mean…?’ Yaz whispered. 

‘We have unfinished business,’ the Doctor murmured, and Yaz pushed her back against the console as she slammed their lips together. It was easier to concentrate now she had enough oxygen to breathe and she kissed the Doctor hungrily, hands tangling in her hair. The Doctor smelt like engine oil and her hands were warm on her back as she pulled her closer, tongue sliding into her mouth. 

Yaz pulled the ridiculous headlight off her and was about to pull down her braces when she heard Ryan’s voice:

‘I FORGOT MY PHONE IGNORE ME.’

‘RYAN. AGAIN?’

‘SORRY.’ 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't know how to end this so Ryan did it for me XD


	7. so tell my friends that I'll be over here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of an angsty character study this time. 
> 
> Chapter title is from 'Here' by Alessia Cara.

She tries so hard to convince them and for a moment she wonders if she succeeded, but when they turn away from her she sees the distrust in their eyes and she knows she failed, that she was too late. They’re getting wise to her tricks now, to her lies. 

Truth be told, she guessed it was Earth the second she left the jeep and stepped onto the planet’s surface. The air was toxic yes, but there was still something that was so familiar to her. The dead sky, the burnt ground, the toxic smoke looming in the distance.

Or perhaps she was thinking of her own planet. Burnt to a crisp, obliterated, _nuked_. 

Again. 

The humans don’t hang around long, disappearing into separate rooms in the depths of the TARDIS and leaving her alone in the control room, similar to how she left them only weeks before. 

_My moods fine._

The old her would have gone to check on Ryan, would have offered him a hug or a cup of tea or a shoulder to cry on, but they don’t do that now; their dynamic has shifted too much. 

She knows that’s her fault, knows her bottling everything up and pushing them away will end with them all leaving her, but she can’t find it in herself to care these days. She’s done her speech, she’s told them to do their bit, what more can she say?

The old her would have flown her TARDIS right back to that spa to rescue Kane and Bella, but that would only serve to further concrete in that timeline and she doesn’t think her fam would thank her for that.

Ryan might though, he might thank her.

She can feel exhaustion tugging at every limb, seeping into her eyes and under her skin, but she doesn’t sleep. She knows what will greet her if she does.

Her planet, Earth, what does it matter? Scorched earth is scorched earth. It all looks the same when it’s been burnt to the ground. She’ll dream about Bella and Ryan though, about the way she’d pressed her lips to his, the thumb gesture. That will haunt her for years to come.

She parks the TARDIS, steps outside, and heads into a bar.

It’s noisy, hot, and full of bodies. She has to fight her way to the bar with elbows and growls and when she’s finally situated in a corner she remembers why she doesn’t drink.

It’s disgusting.

Men letch at her, women flirt with her, she ignores them. She’s not interested in company, she’d have gone to seek out her fam if she wanted that. She’d have sat them down, told them what had happened, begged them to stay with her, but that wasn’t who she was. Not at the moment, anyway.

Because telling them about the Master and what he did to her home was still too painful to say out loud, it would make it _real._

She drinks until she passes out and barely feels her head making contact with the floor as she slides off the stool. 

* * *

When she wakes up, she’s being carried. 

She tries to hit out, tries to yell or move or twitch her limbs, but the alcohol has her in its grip and she feels fuzzy and sick. 

‘Stop moving,’ a low voice growls. ‘I’m taking you back.’

Confusion rattles her because she _knows_ that voice, remembers it, hates it. 

Loves it.

‘You really did a number on yourself, you know,’ the voice continues mockingly. ‘I’m hoping it’s my doing, this self destructive bender. Bravo, Doctor. You’re way out of control.’

No. No no _no._

‘Pu’me’down.’

In her head the words sound fierce, angry, with some _bite_ to them. But of course they come out weak and pathetic and the Master laughs. 

‘Poor thing. Boo hoo my planets gone. You’ll thank me one day, Doctor. You will.’

She wants to go to sleep and she _hates_ that. His body is warm against hers and his shoulder seems like such a comfortable spot to rest her head. 

So she does. 

She doesn’t miss his sharp intake of breath as she does so, either. 

‘Don’t make a habit of this,’ her best enemy hisses. ‘We’re long past that.’

‘Mmm.’

She wants to get down, ideally, but he has her cradled against his chest - too roughly to be affectionate - and she can hear his hearts pounding in that rhythm which she hates as much as she loves. 

When was the last time she was small enough to be carried like this?

‘Have your pets left you yet?’

Ah yes, the humans. It always came back to them. He was always so jealous.

‘I am _not_ jealous.’

She laughs drunkenly at that. She can feel him in her head but can’t be bothered to push him out. Let him look, it’s likely nothing he hasn’t seen before. 

He jostles her and she barely has time to move her head before she’s landing painfully on her hands and knees and vomiting on the dusty floor. She’s pathetic but she can’t bring herself to care. 

‘Gods, _why do you have to be like this.’_

He sounds exasperated and when she blinks bleary eyes up at him she sees him, glaring down at her in disgust. They’re in front of the TARDIS and she can feel her ship bonging in her head, whispering urgently to her.

_AreyouokaydoIlethimindoyouneedhelpshallIgettheothers._

She waves her hands at the doors and they open, but still the TARDIS is hovering anxiously at the edges of her mind. Ships can’t go into full blown panic mode, even sentient ones, but she’s certainly giving it her best shot.

‘Get in.’

She collapses on the ground instead, curling into a ball. She doesn’t want to get in the box, she wants to stay out here under the warmth of this planet’s twin suns which she can pretend are her own; if she concentrates hard enough.

The Master kneels down beside her and places a hand against her forehead.

‘Stop this, you can’t be like this,’ he tells her, and while his voice isn’t kinder there’s less of an edge to it. 

‘I can be’wha’ever I wanna’be,’ she slurs in response, and he grabs her arm and practically throws her over his shoulders, stomping angrily into her ship. 

‘Hey! What have you done with her!’

She’s being moved then and her body makes contact with another that doesn’t _quite_ manage to catch her and drops her to the floor instead with a surprised yelp. 

She blinks up at Yaz whose eyes are wide, terror on her face.

‘I believe this is yours, take better care of her next time,’ the Master spits at her friends. 

‘You _hit_ her.’

A sudden _smack_ rings out in the console room and the Doctor blinks, looking up as an enraged Master stumbles back with his hand against his nose, blood seeping through his fingers. 

Murder flashes in his eyes but the TARDIS springs up a forcefield so quickly the Master doesn’t notice it and he gets an electric shock to his fingers when he surges forward to hit Ryan in retaliation. 

‘No,’ the Doctor mumbles, though whether she’s talking to Ryan or the Master she can’t tell. 

‘She did that to herself,’ the Master growls, and _damn_ is that a look. Purple suit, angry eyes, blood stained face. 

‘You seriously expect us to believe she hit _herself_ in the face?’ Yaz snarls at him, and the Doctor is impressed at the amount of anger Yaz manages to squeeze into those words. 

‘What have you done,’ Graham yells. ‘Drugged her? She’s completely out of it!’

It’s impressive, watching her fam stand up to the Master. Impressive and a little stupid, but she’s proud of them all the same. 

‘She’s _drunk,’_ the Master says, rolling his eyes. ‘I’m _returning_ her to you. Take better care of her next time. Get her a leash or a bell or something.’

Graham, Yaz, and Ryan look at her and she tries to smile encouragingly but is pretty sure she only manages a grimace.

Ryan scoffs. 

‘Yeah, cause you care about her so much.’

The Master walks closer, the force field positively thrumming as he stands as close to it as he can without electrocuting himself.

(he likes that though, she happens to know this for a fact)

‘I’ve known her for far longer than you have,’ he says quietly, yet it’s more menacing than a shout or a snarl and the Doctor feels her head begin to spin as the alcohol washes over her. 

Yaz has her awkwardly propped up against her chest and the Doctor presses into her and closes her eyes. She needs water, she needs a quick biscuit, she needs - 

She needs…

Yaz wraps warm arms around her, holding her, keeping her safe, and she wants to cry in relief. 

The Master turns to her and, whilst his eyes are far from kind, he seems to be regarding her cautiously. 

‘I won’t be so thoughtful in the future,’ he tells her, then turns and leaves the room.

Once the doors slam shut behind him, the TARDIS drops the forcefield and three pairs of eyes look at her with worry.

‘Ssh,’ she says, trying to flap her hand at them but only managing to flop even more into Yaz. ‘S’fine.’

‘It’s not fine, Doctor,’ Graham says quietly, and his old eyes are full of worry and sadness. ‘ _You_ are not fine.’

Ryan kneels beside her, places a hand on her forehead and she has to stop herself leaning up into the touch. He’s Ryan, he’s not the Master, he’s _Ryan._

She leans up anyway, eyes closing, and her mind begins to fog. 

She hears whispers, her fam speaking quietly to each other, then strong arms are encircling her and she’s being lifted up again.

Ryan is broader though, and smells nicer.

The one heart is a bit of a giveaway too.

‘I’ve got you,’ he tells her quietly, and she knows he does. 

She doses in his arms as she’s carried through the corridors. She wants to get down, wants to walk by herself, wants to not show weakness, but it’s a little late for that. 

She wakes up briefly when she’s deposited down on a soft bed and Yaz’s hands fuss at her, stroking hair away from her forehead and tugging a blanket up over her shoulders. 

She’s far too old to be tucked in, but it’s nice anyway.

Something pokes at her bottom lip and Yaz carefully opens her mouth and eases something inside. It’s a metal straw and she gulps the water greedily, hearing Graham’s half hearted mutter about _every little helps_ as the water trickles down her chin. 

Yaz wipes it away with her sleeve. 

‘I’ll take this side, you happy in the chair?’

She doesn’t understand what they’re saying, but when Yaz and Ryan climb onto the bed and Graham sits in the armchair she understands. 

They’re not leaving her this time. 

‘You don’t have to stay,’ she mumbles tiredly. She feels less drunk now but her head is swimming and sleep is pulling her down, wrapping her in its arms and dragging her into the abyss. 

She doesn’t want to dream. Please. No dreams. She’s had enough. 

‘But we’re going to,’ Yaz says, a hand slipping into hers.

It’s her fault, she thinks dimly. It’s her fault they’re all here. She got drunk and made a fool of herself. They’re all in their pyjamas, the TARDIS must have woken them up, and now they’re not going to sleep and they’ll be tired grumpy humans and it’ll be her fault, her fault, her fault.

Yaz climbs under the blankets with her, presses herself against her side, draws her in close.

The Doctor feels a tear trickle down her cheek that she quickly blinks away. 

‘We’re here,’ Yaz whispers to her. ‘Go to sleep. We’re here.’

She presses her head against Yaz’s shoulder and closes her eyes. 

In the back of her mind, her best enemy’s voice speaks again. 

_My parting gift to you._

She dreams of Gallifrey in its glory days. Twin suns warming her skin, the mountains shining, the citadel resplendent in its glass dome, and dimly she feels Yaz kiss tears away from her cheeks. 

She would have loved to have shown them her home.

It’s a little late for that, though. 

She’s always too late. 


	8. I find myself alone when each day is through

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor snogs Tesla in this, I'm warning you now.
> 
> We stan two attractive geniuses ♥️
> 
> Chapter title is from 'I Walk The Line' by Halsey

It takes a long time to unwind metres of cable from around a metal tower, not to mention then rolling it all back up neatly and storing it safely away in the TARDIS; far from Edison’s grubby little hands. 

It was dark and getting cold but the Doctor resolutely continued unclipping and unwinding and rolling and folding all of the equipment she’d pulled out the guts of her ship while the TARDIS cooled off inside the Wardenclyffe plant. She’d fried most of the circuits and it would have to cool off overnight before she tried firing the old girl back up again. That was okay though. She had a lot of work to get done with these cables and she’d need to reconfigure the TARDIS’ shields before she even considered taking her back into the time vortex again. Her friends really wouldn’t be impressed with her if they all died after the time winds ripped her beloved ship to pieces. 

_ Have you ever seen a dead planet? _

It was likely an offhand comment intended to irritate but by the  _ stars  _ had it stung. She hadn’t looked at her friends, hadn’t wanted to see their expressions. Likely they’d be thinking about Raskor Av Kolos and Orphan 55, they couldn’t possibly know that her own home, her once beautiful Gallifrey, was now a pile of ash and ruin. 

That wasn’t their fault, of course. They couldn’t possibly know what she refused to tell them. 

‘Ah, you should have said you were collecting your equipment. Please, let me help you.’

The Doctor turned round to find Tesla standing behind her, already bending down to unclip the cables at the base of the tower. There was no sign of Eddison, Dorothy or her fam, but the sun had almost set and she found she was suddenly grateful for his company. 

‘How are you doing?’ she asked conversationally, finishing her entanglement of wires and setting about stowing them away neatly back in her toolbox, checking once again that everything was where it should be. Eddison had seemed a little  _ too  _ keen about getting his hands on the equipment. 

‘As well as can be expected, I suppose,’ Tesla replied. ‘Alien life, magical blue boxes, vehicles that can hover in the air! I have theorised all of this yet to actually  _ see  _ it with my own eyes.’

The Doctor smiled wide. She remembered that feeling, back when she was young. She still experienced it now, on rare occasions, though there wasn’t much that took her by surprise these days. That’s why she travelled with the humans though. Seeing it all through their eyes was like seeing it fresh herself. 

‘It’s amazing isn’t it,’ she said. ‘There’s so much to see. You think nothing can shock you then suddenly it does.’

‘I would love to see more,’ Tesla said. ‘More of the universe, more of this wonderful world I had no idea existed!’

His enthusiasm was similar to Yaz’s, back before the Master, before Gallifrey. 

Back when they were all still talking to each other. 

‘Sorry, spoilers,’ the Doctor replied, immediately regretting her choice of words. Why not kick herself when she was down and think of her dead wife? Good job, Doctor. Well done.

‘A shame,’ Tesla said. ‘Though I understand, of course.’

She had to admit, with his help the wires were put away much quicker and the long loops of cable had been neatly folded and placed securely away, aside from some which would need to be plugged back into the TARDIS ready for the next day. It was almost completely dark, only the faintest hint of burnt orange  _ don’t think about Gallifrey don’t think about Gallifrey  _ present on the horizon, and the Doctor pulled her goggles off from around her neck and shoved them deep into her pocket; suddenly exhausted. 

‘Doctor, if I may,’ Tesla said cautiously, and when she looked up at him he looked concerned, eyes soft and expression worried. ‘That comment the Queen made, about dead planets. I sense it hit you rather harder than she anticipated, hmm?’

Genius. Absolute genius. Also -  _ not  _ something she wanted to talk about. 

‘You see a lot when you get to my age,’ the Doctor replied, skirting around the edges of the question as she secured loops of cable across her torso ready to carry back to the TARDIS.

‘What a marvellous non-answer,’ Tesla said, and she glowered at him. 

‘No need to get snippy,’ she said, before realising that was exactly what she was doing. Tesla only laughed, perhaps seeing the irony, and she found a smile stretching across her own face. 

‘You are wonderful, Doctor,’ he smiled at her. ‘Truly wonderful. Your friends are lucky to have you. Whether they know it or not.’ 

She wasn’t sure what to say to that, wasn’t sure how to respond. She certainly didn't think she was wonderful, the cocky bravado she’d had in her tenth and eleventh regenerations had long since dissipated. It was more the comment about her friends she felt uncomfortable with. They used to look at her as though she’d single handedly hung the stars in the sky and now…

She knew that was partly her fault. She was being offish and blaise about her mood swings and they were picking up on it. She certainly wouldn’t like it if her friends suddenly became distant and wouldn’t tell her what was wrong, yet how could she tell them about the Master? About Gallifrey? About what he’d said to her?

The truth was, she was getting the feeling her friends were getting fed up with her and that hurt more than the loss of Gallifrey. She’d lost her planet once already, she knew how it felt. She really didn't want to lose her friends, her  _ fam.  _

‘I sense perhaps you are a little lonely, Doctor,’ Tesla said gently. ‘Would I be correct? Your comment earlier about feeling out of place, I can tell it brings you pain.’

The Doctor was starting to remember why it was annoying being around fellow geniuses. Shakespeare, Van Gogh, they were all so damn  _ perceptive.  _ Harder to lie to as well. 

‘I - had some bad news recently,’ she said after a moment, deciding that was suitably vague. ‘And it’s not something I can tell my friends about.’

‘Doctor,’ Tesla said, and was it her imagination or had he suddenly moved into her space without her noticing? ‘It is not good to keep things from those you care about, especially when it upsets you.’

‘This is rather a big thing,’ the Doctor sighed. ‘My friends - they wouldn’t understand.’

‘Perhaps you should let them be the judge of that.’

Nope, the hand on her wrist was definitely  _ not  _ her imagination. It was gentle though, holding her loosely but allowing her to pull away if she wanted to. When was the last time she’d been touched this tenderly?

‘I overhead them speaking, in the building just now,’ Tesla continued, but the Doctor hardly heard him over the roar of blood in her ears and the feeling of her hearts pounding in her chest. She felt a little lightheaded suddenly and there was something coiling deep in her belly she couldn’t identify. 

‘What did they say?’

Her mouth was dry as a bone and she licked her lips quickly, noticing Tesla watching the movement with dark eyes. 

‘They’re worried about you,’ he replied. ‘They wish you’d open up to them.’

She wasn’t really aware of herself tugging him further behind the tower, into the darkness where they couldn’t be seen from the building, until she realised he was walking and so was she. 

‘I understand though,’ Tesla said gently. ‘I understand sometimes it’s easier to share your problems with a total stranger.’

Warm hands landed on her hips, holding her gently, and the Doctor felt her back hit the tower as Tesla pressed himself carefully against her, loosely, non threateningly. There was heat pooling between her legs, butterflies in her stomach, and a samba in her chest, and when Tesla hesitantly lowered his face to hers she reached up to wind her fingers in his hair and pushed her lips against his without pausing to consider that  _ perhaps  _ this was a bad idea. 

Although, as bad ideas go, snogging Nikola Tesla definitely wasn’t one of the worst ones she’d ever come up with. 

His lips were soft, body warm where it was pressed against hers, and his moustache tickled her upper lip. She felt her eyes slide closed and she willingly opened her mouth when his tongue swiped at her lower lip, dropping her hands from his hair to his shoulders in order to pull him closer. This was definitely not where she’d envisioned her evening going, but she wasn’t going to say no. 

She was also grateful she was being supported back and front as Tesla explored the inside of her mouth so thoroughly she was sure her legs would have buckled otherwise. Her previous self, and the one before that now she thought about it, hadn’t been a fan of kissing but  _ this  _ her seemed to enjoy it more than she thought she would. Was she so touch starved that she’d latch onto the first person who wanted her? Or was it because it was Tesla?

Honestly, at this point, it was probably both. The fangirling was very real.

Plus, it wasn’t like her fam had noticed her need for a hug or anything.

Tesla’s hands were climbing slowly higher up her waist, running over the curves of her body and making her insides practically sing at the attention. She hadn’t been turned on yet in this body and she was considering moving Tesla’s hands to her breasts, just to see what it felt like, when a voice from the building cut through the darkness and the two of them sprang apart, both breathless and panting. 

‘Doctor! You alright?’

It was Yaz, calling for her, and the Doctor realised it was now pitch black outside and she’d been out there for  _ hours.  _

Tesla’s mouth dropped to her neck, teeth nibbling gently at her skin, and the Doctor hoped her voice sounded reasonably stable when she called back to her friend. 

‘Yeah! Almost done.’

‘You need a hand?’

‘No!’

It was probably a little too quick and no doubt she’d just ended up offending a friend who was  _ already  _ in a mood with her, but she’d rather not her friends find her sucking face with Tesla, if that could be avoided. 

When Tesla kissed her again, cupping her face firmly in his calloused hand, she made no effort to pull away and as he sucked gently on her bottom lip she felt a spike of - arousal? - something burning in her core anyway. It hadn’t occurred to her that she might be interested in men as well this time around, though perhaps it was a result of her not having a damn  _ hug  _ in so many months, but when Tesla’s hands cautiously played at the waistband of her trousers she moved away. 

‘Not out here,’ she whispered quietly, and Tesla nodded and adjusted his shirt and jacket as the Doctor smoothed down her clothes and ran her fingers half-heartedly through her hair. 

If she was remembering correctly, there was an office in the factory that was tucked away and out of sight of prying human eyes. 

She was sure the TARDIS wouldn’t mind waiting a bit. 

  
  



	9. 'Cause you can't keep going on and on and on and on like this

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been fiddling with this for ages now and I'm just gonna post it before I change my mind XD I awkwardly switched tenses at the beginning and I thiiiink I went through and sorted them all but don't @ me if you spot anything!
> 
> Chapter title is from 'Medicine' by Bring Me The Horizon and the song doesn't really apply to this chapter but that one line is kind of relevant!

Jumping between trains is very cool and has definitely been on the Doctor's to-do list for a while now. Admittedly, jumping between train  _ carriages  _ isn’t  _ quite  _ as cool, but she’d take what she could get, under the circumstances.

The energy blast that smacked her in the shoulder and sent her reeling and crashing into boxes is  _ definitely  _ Not Cool, and she gritted her teeth with the pain of it as she finally managed to get to her feet in order to sonic the emergency exit panel set into the roof, sending it crashing down on their unknown assailant. 

She knows there’s a burn through the fabric of her favourite coat, but luckily Tesla doesn’t notice and she hopped across between the carriages as carefully as she could. Which isn’t very carefully. Not carefully at all, in fact, and she almost fell to her death as she reached out to grab hold of the side of the door. Pain shot up her arm, so quick and agonizing that she quickly let go of the doorframe and stumbled, arms flailing, unable to hold anything as her feet slipped and a painful death came rushing up to meet her. 

‘Doctor!’

Yaz’s hand shot out and grabbed her by the front of her shirt, pulling her inside the carriage to safety with a strength the Doctor didn't know Yaz possessed. 

She heard Ryan in the background, completely incredulous:

‘Of all the people who could have stumbled!’

Once the carriage they’d just come from has been uncoupled and they’re safe - for the time being anyway - the Doctor realises she’s going to have to try harder if she wants to hide her injury from her fam.

Why she wants to hide her injury from her fam, she isn’t sure. It certainly isn’t easy, especially when Yaz’s hands are hovering over the scorch mark in her coat, but luckily she has Nicola Tesla being a big fat liar to distract herself with and she brushes it behind her so well she almost forgets she has an injury at all.

Almost.

It actually  _ really hurts. _

* * *

‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ Yaz asked for the upteenth time that morning. ‘Only you’ve got this sort of grimace on your face and you look like you’re about to throw up. Are you about to throw up?’

‘I’m not about to throw up, Yaz,’ the Doctor reassured her, though she wasn’t 100% sure on that herself. It had been a nine hour train ride from Niagara Falls to New York and she’d been shocked to find herself sleeping for most of the journey. She’d been sat next to Yaz, a respectable distance away, but when she’d woken up she’d had her head on Yaz’s lap and the younger woman had been stroking her hair in a gesture that made her feel all warm and gooey inside. It had been a long time since anyone had played with her hair, she’d forgotten how good it made you feel. 

Graham and Ryan had been giving her peculiar looks and, now she thought about it, the hair stroking gesture was more than likely because she’d been saying something interesting in her sleep. She didn't remember having any bad dreams, only dark shadows and maniacal laughter that could only have belonged to one person. She also couldn’t remember the last time she’d  _ slept,  _ which probably explained how the rocking of the carriage had lulled her to sleep so quickly. 

Graham, Ryan, and Yaz were all  _ still  _ giving her peculiar looks, and she prayed to whichever deity was listening that she hadn’t mumbled anything about Gallifrey.

She stumbled a little then, boot catching on a cobbled step, and Ryan’s hand on her elbow stabilised her quickly. She hadn’t noticed him walking so closely beside her, but now she thought about it she realised she had Ryan on one side, Yaz on the other, and Graham behind her. It was almost as though they were  _ expecting  _ her to fall. 

‘Alright?’ Ryan mumbled, removing his hand. He knew she wasn’t a fan of being touched. 

‘Yeah, all good,’ she mumbled back, though honestly it was  _ embarrassing  _ how much she wanted to be curled up on Yaz’s lap again having her hair stroked. She was thousands of years old, for goodness sake. 

The protestors were a distraction from her, but once they were all inside Nikola Tesla’s home she realised she once again had three pairs of human eyes looking at her, watching with concern. 

‘Are you sure I can’t take a look at that shoulder?’ Yaz asked her, as politely as she could. ‘It’s obviously bothering you.’

Too late, the Doctor realised she was holding her arm. She let go quickly.

‘Nah, it’s nothing,’ she said, looking with disappointment at the few pieces of engineering dotted here and there. This certainly hadn’t been what she was expecting. 

‘Doctor, don’t lie to us.’

Ryan sounded cross and when she looked up she saw three disappointed humans looking at her. It took her a moment to realise they were disappointed in  _ her,  _ and not the distinct lack of gadgets and gizmos on display. That certainly hurt a lot more than she’d been expecting.

‘Fam, don’t be like that,’ she said, fully aware she was pouting like a child. ‘It’s just a little energy blast, nothing to worry about. Just stings a bit.’

‘If it  _ just stings a bit,’  _ Yaz mimicked, taking a step towards her, ‘then you won’t mind us taking a look at it.’

The Doctor continued to pout at her. 

‘You were bubbling in your sleep, Doc,’ Graham said, and she scronched at him. 

‘What?’

‘I thought it was more like whistling,’ Ryan disagreed.

‘Or bells,’ Yaz chimed in. 

The Doctor could only look at them in confusion. 

‘On the train?’ Yaz prompted her. ‘You were making weird noises. We thought it was pain from your shoulder. I mean, it looked like you were in pain. Your face was all -’ she waved her hand - ‘creased.’

The Doctor, thoroughly confused now, wasn’t really sure how to respond. How do you tell your friends you apparently talk in your native language when asleep? None of her other friends had ever mentioned her doing it before. That much must have been clear on her face as Ryan shrugged. 

‘Maybe you were dreaming about swimming with dolphins,’ he said. ‘Doesn’t matter. Can you let Yaz look at your shoulder though? Just to stop her worrying. Me and Graham will wait outside.’

Once the two men had left the room Yaz turned to the Doctor expectantly, holding out her hand. 

‘Come on,’ she said. ‘Let me see.’

The Doctor sighed, admitting defeat, and shrugged off her coat to hand to Yaz. Best to just get this over with. At least then she could get back to fangirling over Tesla and trying to work out this energy thing. 

‘Doctor, that looks  _ really painful,’  _ Yaz said quietly, and when the Doctor looked down she realised there was dried blood on her favourite pink shirt.

Yaz carefully pulled her brace down her shoulder and moved aside the fabric of her shirts, the material practically disintegrating in her hands. The burn was red and angry against her pale skin and Yaz’s fingers ghosted over it, careful not to touch the charred skin. The Doctor looked away, hearts pounding at the proximity of her friend. It had been a long time since someone had cared for her, care  _ about  _ her, like this, and she remembered how warm she’d felt that morning when she’d woken up on the train with her head on Yaz’s thigh and soft fingers combing through her hair. 

‘It doesn’t look infected,’ Yaz said softly. ‘Just painful.’

‘It’s fine,’ the Doctor said, swallowing hard. ‘I heal quick. It’s not as painful as it was last night.’

‘So it was painful last night?’ Yaz said, and the Doctor pulled a face as she realised her slip up. 

‘Uuuhhh…’

‘You need to tell us, Doctor,’ Yaz admonished her gently. ‘You need to tell us when you’re hurting. Even if you hadn’t made it blatantly obvious when you fell asleep on me and started chiming last night. What was that, by the way?’

‘My language,’ the Doctor mumbled quietly. 

‘Why did the TARDIS didn't translate it?’

‘Why bother translating a language you already understand?’ the Doctor shrugged, wincing as Yaz carefully replaced her brace, shirts, and handed her back her coat. 

‘Doctor…’

Yaz reached out a hand to her cheek, fingers brushing against her skin, and the Doctor realised there was wet on her cheeks. She hadn’t remembered what she’d dreamt about, but now she was starting to smell smoke up her nose and hear the crackle of fire and destruction in her ears. She blinked, hard, and the images dissipated. 

‘You look so sad when you think no-one’s looking,’ Yaz said gently. ‘But we are looking, and we do notice.’

‘Can’t sneak anything past you can I, Yaz?’ the Doctor said, trying to stop herself from leaning against Yaz’s hand. 

‘No. You can’t,’ Yaz told her pointedly. ‘So next time, tell us.’

The Doctor nodded, smiling sadly, then let out a muffled  _ squeak  _ as Yaz wrapped her arms around her waist and held her gently. 

‘It was nice cuddling you last night,’ Yaz mumbled into her good shoulder. ‘You obviously needed it but you never let us get that close to you.’ 

The Doctor said nothing, eyes sliding shut at the sensation of another warm body pressed against her own. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a hug, it had definitely been a while. She still wasn’t entirely sure if she liked hugs this regeneration but she certainly didn't want to pull away. 

It occurred to her then that she usually towered over her friends. She was only an inch taller than Yaz but she decided there and then that it was nicer when you were the same height, more comforting. Or maybe that was just a woman thing.

‘Better?’ Yaz asked gently when she unwrapped her arms, and the Doctor nodded and smiled warmly at her. Hugs were amazing. Hugs with Yaz were even better. 

‘Doctor.’

The door opened and Tesla walked in, followed by Graham and Ryan. He held out his hand, in which was a green, glowing orb that definitely did  _ not  _ belong here.

‘I believe you were looking for this.’ 

  
  
  



	10. I know that you'll be by my side

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still screaming about last week's episode. 
> 
> Chapter title is from 'In The Heat Of The Moment' by Noel Gallagher's High Flying Birds and yes I KNOW I wrote a whole multi-chapter based on that song but it's a good song and defo applies here.

‘It’s totally fine, don’t even worry about it,’ Jack said to the blonde in the corner, his arms straining against the chains. ‘I’ll have us out of here in a jiffy, just you hang on.’

The blonde only blinked blankly at him. She had her hands tied in front of her but Jack hardly saw the point in it. She’d obviously been drugged up to her eyeballs and wasn’t a risk to anyone. She was looking at Jack with mild confusion, as though she couldn’t quite comprehend what he was, but then her head dropped down and she stared at her hands instead. 

‘Not the talkative type?’ Jack asked her. ‘That’s alright. I can talk enough for the both of us. I’m Captain Jack Harkness, by the way. Pleasure to meet you.’

He continued pulling against the chains securing him to the wall but he knew it was useless. They were secured so tightly he’d probably end up dislocating his shoulder or snapping his wrist before he managed to get out of them. 

He sighed heavily and slumped back against the wall, looking up at his silent cellmate who had her legs out in front of her and her chin against her chest. Blissful ignorance. A bomb could go off in here and he doubted she’d even bat an eyelid.

‘I don’t suppose you could tell me your name?’ he asked, and the blonde looked up at him but stayed silent with that same vacant expression. She was only responding to the sound of his voice, like a baby would. There was no indication she understood what he was saying.

‘No, I suppose not,’ Jack sighed heavily. ‘Shame. Never thought I’d see the day when I got fed up with the sound of my own voice.’ He wriggled his shoulder, sore from pulling against the restraints. ‘See, I’m looking for an old friend of mine,’ he continued. ‘I tracked her signature here but then I got caught by those thugs upstairs, the same as you did; I’m assuming.’ He frowned. ‘I don’t even know if she  _ is  _ a she at the moment. Her friends said she was but it’s difficult to know if I’ve landed in the right timestream or not. So much can change so quickly.’

The blonde only blinked at him.

‘Don’t spose you know anyone called Yaz, Graham, or Ryan?’ he asked her, not expecting a response. ‘Those are the names of her friends. They may have passed this way.’

The door of the cell swung open then and two burly guards shoved their way in. One of them grabbed the blonde by her arm, dragging her roughly to her feet, and Jack yelled at him to be more gentle. She was so drugged and docile there was no way she’d be able to fight back or defend herself and this brutality was just unnecessary. 

‘Where are we going?’ Jack asked as he and the blonde were dragged through the dimly-lit, metal corridors of the complex. He wasn’t particularly worried about himself, he had a rather cool trick for tricking death after all, but he couldn’t stand by and watch an innocent woman be tortured or hurt in front of him. 

Well, he was assuming she was innocent, but there were bruises on her knuckles that indicated she’d definitely smacked someone when she’d come in.

As soon as they were shoved into the sterile, cold environment of what appeared to be a clinic room of some kind, Jack could see who that person was. The man - who he assumed was some kind of doctor judging by his white coat, just not the one he was looking for - had tissue shoved up a swollen, bruised, and clearly broken nose. 

‘Well done,’ Jack told the blonde approvingly, but of course she only looked around the room with empty eyes. 

‘I’ll give her another shot,’ the doctor said, grabbing the blonde’s arm and dragging her towards him. ‘What do you want me to do with him?’

‘Boss wants him tested,’ the guard shrugged. ‘I dunno, he wasn’t specific.’

‘I’ll have you know I have regular check ups,’ Jack told them in annoyance. ‘And I always take precautions.’

He winked at the blonde, hoping to get at least a smile out of her, but she didn't get the joke. 

‘Do you want me to hold her down?’ one of the guards said, indicating the blonde and barely hiding a smirk at the sight of the doctor's broken nose. 

‘No,’ the doctor growled in response. ‘It’s fine.’

‘Hey! Get off her!’ 

Jack tried to get free when the doctor drew up some kind of medication, pressing a massive needle into the blonde’s arm, but a guard smacked him in the gut with the butt of his gun and Jack bent over, winded. 

The blonde made an unhappy sound and slumped against the couch, light fading from her eyes as she met Jack’s eyes. Her skin was turning an unhealthy grey colour and Jack felt a rush of anger at the guards. She wasn’t a threat, she could barely support her own weight.

He kicked out with his leg, hitting the guard closest to him and shoving him hard into the wall. Another guard drew his weapon but Jack kicked one of the surgical instrument tables and it flew up and smacked him in the face. They’d secured his wrists behind his back with cuffs but the more Jack pulled against them the more give he could feel in the metal. He headbutted another guard, kicked the doctor in the knee, and once his hands were free he dove towards the blonde; deciding to just grab her, make a run for it, and hope for the best.

The man he’d shoved into the wall fired his energy weapon directly into Jack’s chest and everything went black.

* * *

He gasped awake what seemed like seconds later, breathing hard as he felt his organs kick back in again. No matter how many times he came back from the dead it never seemed to make it any less traumatic and he coughed with the pain as his chest ached from the energy blast.

There was a sheet over him and Jack threw it off, abandoning it to the floor as he slowly sat up and swung his legs over the side of the cot. 

He was still in the hospital clinic room and the lights were dimmed, no sign of the guards or any other members of staff anywhere. He stood and stretched, rummaging through drawers and cupboards until he found something vaguely weapon-shaped he could use to defend himself. It was a pipe, though he couldn’t guess what its use was. 

Jack stuck his head round the door and peered into the empty corridor. The lights were dim out here as well, the whole station appeared to be in night mode, and there were no guards. 

As he headed along back towards his cell, he realised he still wasn’t really sure where he was. He’d been looking for the Doctor and had tracked her TARDIS signature as best he could, but he’d landed in the middle of what looked like some kind of control deck, armed guards all around, and no Doctor in sight. 

He’d been captured and thrown in the cell pretty soon after that, which was where he’d met his pretty blonde cellmate who’d only stared at him with drugged eyes or had slept on the stone floor so deeply he was sure she’d stopped breathing at least four times in the night. 

He was getting close to his cell now and he realised he could hear voices, whispered and hushed. He moved a little closer as silently as he could, the pipe in his hand ready to defend himself, ears straining as he tried to make out what they were saying. Guards wouldn’t whisper and his cellmate was so drugged she wouldn’t say a word. So who…?

‘... totally out of it…’

‘...can you carry her?’

‘...it’s alright, we’re gonna get you out of here…’

‘HA!’

Jack sprang around the corner, pipe raised high, ready to strike.

The Doctor’s friends blinked at him, jumping back in shock and he lowered his weapon in surprise. They were all dressed in guard’s uniforms which were comically too large for them, but they seemed relieved to see him nonetheless. In fact, they seemed to be in the middle of some form of rescue attempt.

‘What are you lot doing here?’

‘Us?!’ the older one, Graham, exclaimed. ‘What are  _ you  _ doing here?’

‘Looking for the Doctor!’ Jack said. 

‘Well, you found her,’ Yaz muttered darkly, fingers curled around the blonde’s who was sat against the wall as she had been before, eyes blank, saying nothing. Realisation slammed into him like a brick wall and his jaw dropped open in shock.

_ ‘She’s  _ the Doctor?! Oohhhh  _ yes.’  _

Voices echoed down the corridor, accompanied by the stomping of boots, and the four of them froze as the Doctor simply sat, blissfully clueless as to what was going on around her, looking at her friends with mild interest. 

‘We’d better get out of here,’ Jack said. ‘Got an escape vehicle? Please say it’s the TARDIS. They pinched my vortex manipulator.’

‘Yeah, it’s on the bridge still,’ Ryan said as he and Yaz grabbed the Doctor's arms and hauled her upright. ‘We’ll never make it.’

‘Not with that attitude!’ Jack admonished him. ‘Come on, shift. Let me carry her.’

In one easy movement, Jack grabbed the Doctor and flung her over his shoulder, holding onto her legs tightly as the little group headed out into the corridor and hurried as fast as they could along the empty metal corridors. A few moments later, they heard a yell and a siren began to go off, echoing and piercing their ears as it bounced off the walls.

‘I think they’ve noticed she’s missing!’ Graham said. 

‘Up here!’ Yaz yelled, shoving open a door that led to a stairwell. ‘It’s a shortcut to the bridge. Will you be okay with her on the stairs?’

‘Just you watch me,’ Jack grinned. ‘There’s boxes over there, can you barricade the door?’

As Graham and Ryan piled heavy metal crates in front of the door, Yaz checked on the Doctor.

‘Unbelievable,’ Yaz muttered. ‘She’s nodded off.’

It was a long flight and Jack was a little out of breath by the time they made it to the top. They’d emerged onto an upper platform, almost like a viewing deck, and below them Jack could see what must be the bridge. Lights were flashing, alarms were going off, and in the centre of the room - big, blue, beautiful, and a sight for sore eyes - was the TARDIS.

Ryan chuckled.

‘They tried so hard to get the doors open,’ he said. ‘Utterly failed.’ 

‘Nothing can get through those doors,’ Jack said proudly.

‘Apart from the Kasaarvin,’ Yaz muttered.

Jack frowned. ‘The what?’

‘Tell you later,’ Graham interrupted. ‘How are we gonna get down there without them seeing us?’

‘We’re not,’ Jack said. Behind them they heard a distant thud followed by more yelling and realised the guards had broken through their makeshift barricade.

‘Here,’ Jack said, kneeling on the floor and carefully easing the Doctor off his shoulder. ‘You hang onto her. I’ll barricade the door.’

The doors they’d come through had metal handles on them, and Jack retrieved the pipe from his pocket and awkwardly bent it as best he could, until the doors were secured and they had a few more seconds to play with. There was a control panel in front of him and Jack hurried over to it, lighting up the screen as he splayed his hands out across it and began to press buttons.

‘What are you doing?’ Yaz asked. 

‘I’m  _ hoping  _ that I can trick the guards into thinking we’re somewhere we’re not,’ Jack said, focused on the task. ‘Wherever it is we are, their security system isn’t worth a damn. I’m in. I just need to find an area far enough away that will buy us enough time to get to the TARDIS. Ah! Here we go. Looks like the engine storage. If I can just trip the alarm I should be able to…..’

He entered a quick sequence and something on a panel below them on the bridge lit up urgently.

‘I’ve found the intruders!’ the guard monitoring it called out. ‘Engine storage room one.’

‘Seal the doors,’ a man - who Jack assumed must be in charge - yelled out. ‘And get down there! Don’t let them escape.’

The bridge emptied, only two solutary figures remaining manning the deck. They heard shouts from the stairway behind them but the guards never reached their makeshift lock, receiving new orders telling them the prisoner was somewhere else.

The Doctor was awake now and was blinking up at them, sitting cross legged on the floor. She looked like a child sitting in a classroom, eyes full of trust and innocence, and Jack wondered what she was  _ really  _ like.

He couldn’t wait to find out.

‘Come on, love, up you come,’ Graham said. She took his proffered hand and got to her feet then just stood there, waiting to be told what to do next. 

There were stairs at the end of the viewing platform leading down to the deck, and the five of them made their way carefully down; trying to stick to the wall and out of sight of the two remaining guards. The TARDIS was in the centre of the room, humming quietly to herself, and once they were on the bridge Jack estimated the blue box was about 20 feet away. Those 20 feet would draw them out into the middle of the room though, and there was a high chance the two guards would notice them. 

‘Look!’ Yaz hissed, pointing urgently to a section of the bridge. It looked like a little science corner, gadgets and gizmos dotted about everywhere, but there - resting atop a metal surface - was a small selection of instruments that Jack recognised only too well.

‘That’s my vortex manipulator!’ he whispered excitedly. 

‘And that’s the Doc’s sonic!’ Graham pointed out. 

‘Interesting shape,’ Jack mused.

‘She made it out of spoons,’ Ryan informed him.

‘Yeah,’ Jack said with a roll of his eyes. ‘Cause that’s obviously the first thing that came to my mind.’

They shuffled carefully along the wall, luckily having enough consoles and power banks to hide behind, and Jack strapped his manipulator to his wrist while Yaz shoved the Doctor’s belongings into her pocket. The TARDIS was a little closer now, but to get to it they’d still have to dash out into the middle of the room and the guards would have more than enough time to fire at them before they got to safety. 

‘Any smart ideas?’ Jack asked as they crouched down behind a console.

‘Yeah. I’ve got one,’ Graham said, picking up a pen pot from the console and holding it tightly. ‘Get ready to leg it.’

‘If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking…’ Yaz said slowly.

‘I defo am. Everyone ready?’

‘We’re gonna die,’ Ryan muttered, but he nodded anyway.

Jack took the Doctor's hand, Yaz took her other, and Graham threw the pen pot as far as he could.

It was a good throw, Jack had to hand it to him, and it hit the side of the wall with an impressive  _ thunk,  _ immediately drawing the attention of the two guards.

‘Now!’ Graham hissed, and as the guards’ attention was drawn they sprinted towards the TARDIS, the doors of the blue box opening for them, and the five of them barely making it inside as a shout called out from behind them and an energy blast hit the - mercifully now shut - blue doors.

‘Phew! That was close,’ Graham said, out of breath from the short sprint. 

‘Woaaaaah. I  _ love  _ the new desktop.’

Jack was gazing around the TARDIS in wonder, a grin on his face that went from one ear to the other. The TARDIS hummed, pinging sounds coming from the console and Jack wandered around the room, taking it all in as Yaz knelt down in front of a thoroughly confused looking Doctor.

‘Hey, you alright?’ she said quietly, carefully holding the Doctor's face in her hands.

The Doctor looked at her, forehead scronched, eyes a little less cloudy.

‘Yaz?’ she mumbled.

Jack spun around at the sound of a new voice, eyes wide, expression full of hope. He knelt down beside her and the Doctor gave him a look so utterly full of disbelief he almost wanted to laugh.

_ ‘Jack?!’ _

‘Hey beautiful,’ Jack grinned. ‘Long time no see.’

The Doctor's face split into a grin, eyes shining, smile wide, and as she drunkenly raised her arms Jack laughed and pulled her into a hug, holding her tightly. 

Graham, Ryan, and Yaz could only look on in puzzlement, swapping glances with each other. This was the happiest the Doctor had been in  _ weeks.  _

‘We have so much to catch up on,’ Jack told her earnestly. ‘You won’t believe what’s been going on. Can you stand?’

With Jack and Yaz’s help, the Doctor was carefully brought to her feet where she stood, swaying a little, face turning a decidedly green colour.

‘What was it they gave you, Doc?’ Graham asked. ‘You were like a little lost puppy.’

The Doctor, in lieu of answer, pointed at a metal bowl on her little science station in the corner of the TARDIS. Graham picked it up, handed it to her, and she consequently proceeded to throw up into it.

Jack held her hair out of the way and patted her back reassuringly. 

* * *

He found her later sat in the doorway of the TARDIS, legs dangling over the side, cup of tea in her hands, stars shining brilliantly through the open doors. 

Jack shrugged off his coat and draped it carefully across her shoulders, sitting down beside her and admiring the beauty of a still, peaceful universe.

‘Feeling better?’ he asked after a comfortable silence.

‘Think so,’ the Doctor replied, looking down into her mug. ‘This is staying down anyway.’

Jack chuckled. After she’d been sick in the console room Yaz had very quickly taken control and had practically shoved her into her bedroom to sleep it off, something the Doctor protested loudly against the entire way down the corridor. 

She’d then proceeded to sleep for ten hours.

He’d told her about the cyberman afterwards, when the five of them were gathered in the library and the Doctor was looking a little less peaky. She’d listened to what he had to say, paying close attention, then had stood and left the room as soon as he’d finished.

The TARDIS, ever attentive to her pilot’s needs, had subsequently made it impossible for any of them to find her. 

Until now, anyway.

‘Your friends,’ Jack said. ‘They’re cute. Like a proper little family.’

‘You sound like Graham,’ the Doctor said, eyes dull as she took another sip of her drink. 

‘I’m glad you’ve got people who love you, Doctor,’ Jack said softly. ‘You shouldn’t be alone, especially now.’

The Doctor looked at him, head tilted to the side. 

‘How do you do it?’ she asked quietly. ‘Live so many lives? Lose so many people? I’m an old hat at it now. I’ll even lose my fam eventually, either through old age or extermination or  _ Cybermen.’ _

Her fingers clenched around her mug and Jack took it carefully out of her hands before she smashed it with her bare hands. She could do it. He’d seen it before. 

‘I love them, I mourn them, I move on and I never forget them,’ Jack said gently. ‘The same thing you do, I’d imagine. I’ve been alone for a while now, by choice more than anything, but as soon as I got this message I knew I had to find you and I can’t describe the joy that made me feel.’

He smiled at her, eyes warm, and carefully slid his hands into her hair; noting the way the Doctor practically curled into his touch. 

‘You’ll never lose me, Doctor,’ he said quietly. ‘I’ll always find my way back to you, you can count on that.’ He bent his lips to kiss her and it was like coming home, gentle and warm and so good. The Doctor reached up her hands to his lapels to pull him closer, and they stayed like that for a very long time. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> JACK WOULD DEFO SNOG THIRTEEN THIS IS THE HILL I WILL DIE ON.


	11. you say the word and I'll go anywhere blindly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .... please note the rating change .....
> 
> Chapter title is from 'Sucker' by the Jonas Brothers IT'S A GOOD SONG DON'T @ ME

It was quiet and still in the outback. The sky was dark, the desert was silent. 

The Doctor and O were stood at the computers, peering intently at the information displayed on them. Ryan was sat beside the Doctor, watching them work with interest, but Graham could tell he was seconds away from nodding off. He’d had a busy day, he wasn’t surprised he couldn’t stay awake.

Yaz was asleep already, curled under the Doctor's coat and a blanket on the sofa beside him. The Doctor had declared her physically fine, but it was clear she was shaken up by her trip into another world. She was frowning in her sleep, fingers clenching in the grey fabric of her friend’s coat, and Graham felt his heart go out to her. She was only young. He’d had experience staring death in the face but Yaz hadn’t, and Graham knew she was so keen to impress the Doctor. There probably wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do for her.

He looked up at Ryan again. He’d fallen asleep now with his head lolling against the Doctor's shoulder, slouched uncomfortably in the chair. The Doc didn't seem bothered - if she’d even noticed - and seemed perfectly content to let him use her as a pillow while she reprogrammed the computers (or whatever it was she was doing). O had noticed though, and he turned back to look at the humans with a frown.

‘I think it’s bedtime,’ he said softly to the Doctor. 

She looked up in surprise and Graham realised she truly hadn’t noticed Ryan, so absorbed in her task she’d missed her friend pressed against her side and drooling into her t-shirt. 

‘I’ve got spare rooms, let me find blankets,’ O said, standing up as Graham crossed the room to shake his grandson awake. 

‘Come on, son,’ he said softly. ‘Let the Doc have her arm back.’

‘Eh?’ Ryan said, blinking at him.

Graham looked at the Doctor but she was back to frowning at the screens, forehead scronched and eyes dark. It was clear she didn't like what she was looking at. 

‘Found anything?’ he asked her.

‘No,’ she mumbled in response. ‘Nothing at all. No readings, no biometric footprint, no teleportation residue, nothing. It’s like they don’t exist, like they don’t leave a trace.’

‘Rooms are ready, down this way,’ O said, appearing in the doorway. ‘I hope you two don’t mind sharing.’

‘Nah, we don’t mind,’ Graham said, hauling his aching grandson out of the chair. ‘I’ll hit him if he snores.’

Ryan snorted in response. 

‘Doctor? You can have my room,’ O said, gracious as always.

‘Don’t worry about me,’ the Doctor replied, still staring at the computer. ‘I’ll stay in here, better keep an eye on Yaz.’

At the mention of her name Yaz frowned in her sleep again, and this time the Doctor seemed to notice.

‘Let me know if you need anything,’ O told her, but she only waved a hand in indifference as the three of them trouped off to bed. 

Alone in front of the computers, the Doctor rubbed her face tiredly and leaned back in her chair; stretching her arms high above her head. She felt as though she was missing something, something obvious that was right in front of her face, but she couldn’t say what it was. These creatures seemed to be from another dimension, but which one? They were clearly malevolent but had no obvious weaknesses. And why had they released Yaz? Why hadn’t they killed her like the two security guards? What were they planning?

‘Doctor?’

Yaz’s sleepy voice sounded from behind her and the Doctor turned to find Yaz sat up on the sofa, blinking tiredly. 

‘You need more sleep, Yaz,’ the Doctor said gently. 

‘Where are the others?’ Yaz asked, looking around with a frown on her face.

‘In bed,’ the Doctor replied. ‘Like you should be. Come on, back to sleep.’

Yaz nodded and laid back down tiredly, pulling the Doctor's coat up and over herself as she watched her through heavily hooded eyes. She could feel sleep pulling at her, trying to drag her down, but as soon as she closed her eyes there was a white flash and she sat upright again, hands pressed against her eyes.

‘Hey, deep breaths. It’s alright. I’m here.’

Yaz had never known the Doctor to be affectionate, but she felt warm hands pressed against her own and when she looked up she saw the Doctor kneeling on the floor in front of her, forehead creased in worry. 

‘I’m alright,’ Yaz mumbled. ‘I think.’

‘Lemme get you a drink.’

She disappeared and Yaz sat up properly against the sofa, blanket and coat tucked around her as she took in the room she was in. There was a lot of stuff crammed into it, folders and paper and post it notes on the walls. It was almost like the inside of a conspiracy theorist’s lair, though Yaz supposed you had to be a bit of one in order to work for MI6. O seemed alright though, certainly one of the more emotionally stable people Yaz had met out of all the Doctor's friends.

‘Here,’ the Doctor replied, pressing a glass of water into Yaz’s hands and sitting down beside her, legs folded carefully up on the sofa. ‘There’s nothing a nice glass of water won’t fix. Universal cure that is.’

Yaz sipped it slowly whilst the Doctor sat silently beside her. She could feel her friend’s gaze on her but tried not to look up, focusing instead on keeping her shaking hands still long enough for her to finish her drink. She felt a little sick, but the water was helping and her eyes caught a photo shoved up on a high shelf, neatly displayed in a little frame. Even from this distance she could tell it was a photo of the Doctor. She wasn’t looking at the camera, instead smiling at something not in the picture, but the tousled hair and coat was the same and her smile was radiant. In fact, it was almost like...

‘O,’ Yaz said quietly, fully aware she was being nosey but not caring enough to tell herself to mind her own business. ‘He’s not… I mean… Are you two together? Like a couple?’

The Doctor was uncharacteristically quiet, and when Yaz looked at her she realised her cheeks had flushed pink and she was looking down at her hands.

_ ‘Doctor.’ _

‘Oh ssh,’ the Doctor said, not meeting Yaz’s eyes. ‘We’re not together. It was just - you know - once.’

She was almost beetroot red and Yaz had to try not to laugh. She’d never imagined herself having  _ this  _ kind of conversation with her alien bestie - especially considering the Doctor had never shown any interest in sex, as far as Yaz was aware - but it was still funny that she reacted the same as a normal human woman when pressed about past lovers.

‘He’s very handsome,’ Yaz told her with a grin. ‘I don’t blame you.’

The Doctor rolled her eyes in response, but there was a smile tugging at her lips all the same. 

Yaz set her empty glass of water down on the coffee table and dropped back onto the sofa, her head resting in the Doctor's lap as she pulled the coat and blanket up over herself. The Doctor made a surprised sound, but a few moments later she felt fingers running soothingly through her hair and Yaz sighed happily, though her stomach was twisting in knots. She knew she needed sleep, but who knew what was waiting for her? How close she’d come to death suddenly slammed into her and she shuddered, gripping the Doctor's thigh tightly as she pressed her face against her leg.

‘Yaz? You alright down there?’ the Doctor whispered quietly. 

Yaz nodded her head against blue trousers. Her heart was thumping hard and she realised she could feel tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. If she died, how would her parents find out? Would the Doctor tell them? Would Ryan or Graham? How would they react? 

‘Yaz… what’s going on?’

She’d been so stupid, getting that close to a creature she knew nothing about. Just because the Doctor did it, doesn’t mean she should risk her life like that as well. The Doctor had more knowledge, more experience, she wasn’t afraid of monsters. 

‘Hey.’

The Doctor tapped on her forehead with a finger, and her face softened when Yaz looked up at her, bleary eyed. She reached out, stroking the tears away from Yaz’s cheeks, fingers pausing against her skin. 

‘I’m sorry,’ the Doctor said softly. ‘I’m sorry about what happened to you today. I thought you’d be safe.’

‘Not your fault,’ Yaz murmured in response. ‘I thought I’d be safe too.’ 

The Doctor rubbed her eyes, suddenly looking exhausted, and she wriggled down on the sofa until she was lying next to Yaz, holding her hand tightly. It wasn’t a very big sofa, but with her front pressed against the Doctor's, Yaz found she still had more than enough room. 

‘I can take you home, if you need me too,’ the Doctor said quietly, but Yaz shook her head fiercely. 

‘No. No way. I always feel safer with you, even when I’m not.’

‘Even if I can’t always keep you safe?’

‘That’s not your responsibility.’

‘It is, Yaz. It is my responsibility.’

‘I don’t need protecting.’

‘You’re human, you’re  _ fragile.’ _

‘Says the woman who’s apparently died thirteen times already.’

The Doctor scronched her face and Yaz laughed at her indignant expression. 

‘Maybe we should both just wrap ourselves in cotton wool,’ Yaz said thoughtfully, reaching up to trace the silver stars in the Doctor's earring. 

‘I think the TARDIS would be happy with that,’ the Doctor agreed, shivering a little under Yaz’s touch. ‘The amount of times I’ve regenerated in the console room. She _ hates  _ it.’

The Doctor's skin was warm under Yaz’s hands, her face flushed, and when the Doctor suddenly fell silent Yaz realised she had her fingers pressed against the Doctor's cheek and had been staring at her lips without noticing. The room was quiet, no sounds from outside or the men sleeping down the hill, yet Yaz could feel the atmosphere charged like electricity in the room. The Doctor's eyes were black, pupils blown, and Yaz could feel her hearts thumping quickly under the thin material of her t-shirts.

She’d almost died today, yet in that moment she’d never felt so alive. Her head was swimming, heart pounding, and there was a familiar ache burning in her belly at the proximity of the Doctor against her. Her lips were so close, her fingers wrapped securely in Yaz’s own, their t-shirt clad chests pressing against each other.

‘You and O,’ Yaz whispered, mouth dry. ‘That’s over, right?’

‘It never really started,’ the Doctor replied, and Yaz pressed their lips together and curled into her with a muffled moan, swiping her tongue along the Doctor's lower lip until her mouth opened and she was able to slip inside, body hot and mouth wet against her own. 

She’d expected the Doctor to pull away, she certainly wouldn’t blame her, but if anything the Doctor seemed to want this as much as she did and when Yaz raised their conjoined hands to press the Doctor's against her breast she moaned quietly and tangled a hand in Yaz’s hair, tilting her head to better explore her mouth with her tongue.

Yaz was putty underneath her. She’d instigated but all she could do was hold on and let the Doctor take what she needed from her oh so willing body. An image flashed into her mind, of the Doctor and O tangled together on sweaty sheets, and she pushed it aside; moving the Doctor’s hand from her chest to the waistband of her trousers.

The Doctor faltered and when she pulled away her eyes were wide and her lips swollen. She swallowed thickly, eyes dropping to Yaz’s lips as her fingers paused at the fastening of her jeans.

‘It doesn’t have to mean anything,’ Yaz said quietly, reaching between their bodies to undo her jeans. She still expected the Doctor to jump up and run away, stumbling awkwardly out of the room mumbling an excuse about how they couldn’t do this, it wasn’t appropriate, but she said nothing and she let Yaz interlace their fingers to slide down inside the fabric of her underwear. With her hand pressed over the Doctor's, Yaz couldn’t feel anything except the back of her hand but judging by the sharp intake of breath - and the ease with which the Doctor's fingers glided over her - Yaz knew she was wet.

Not that she needed the Doctor to tell her that, her core was throbbing like it hadn’t for  _ years.  _

She removed her hand, leaving the Doctor's, and kissed her slowly; nudging their bodies together as she encouraged her to move. It took a few moments, the Doctor perhaps running through all the reasons in her head about why this was a _bad idea,_ but after a few moments she felt slender fingers dipping down, sliding easily over her clit, and Yaz had to bury her sigh into the Doctor's neck for fear of the men hearing them.

Secretly, she quite likes the idea that the Doctor is touching her like this in the house where O likely spread her out in a similar way. The thought makes her seep wetness and she angles her hips upwards, silently begging the Doctor to slip inside her. 

When she does seconds later, Yaz bites a hickey onto the Doctor's neck with more vigour than she intended, and the Doctor lets out a quiet yelp that’s thankfully muffled by cushions and blankets. 

Yaz pressed her face against the Doctor's neck, clinging to her arms as firm fingers thrust slowly between her legs and the Doctor's thumb occasionally pressed against her clit. She wasn’t sure how easy it was for the Doctor, considering her jeans are barely over her hips, but the other woman seemed to be managing just fine and Yaz could feel waves  _ just  _ beginning to crest when suddenly the Doctor pulled away, leaving her empty, wanting, and panting desperately. 

She didn't leave her waiting long, however, as the Doctor quickly gripped Yaz’s jeans and tugged them down over her legs, shoving up the fabric of her t-shirt and freeing a breast from its cup so she could settle between her legs and suck lightly on her nipple as she entered her again and kept up an even more torturous pace that had Yaz practically squirming and desperate in minutes. The Doctor was good. She was  _ so  _ good. She lifted her knees, fingers gripping the Doctor's hair tightly in one hand as a wet tongue swiped at her nipple. She held onto the Doctor's shoulder with the other arm, moving her hips, meeting her thrusts as the pleasure spiralled again and she could feel herself about to -

The Doctor pulled away and Yaz let out a moan of irritation that was a little louder than she’d meant it to be. So loud, in fact, that she heard a door open just down the corridor.

‘Pretend you’re asleep,’ the Doctor whispered, her voice full of muffled laughter as she drew the blanket up over both of them - hiding any clue as to what they’d been doing - and curled against Yaz’s side, closing her eyes. 

Yaz rested her head against the Doctor's shoulder, eyes shut, core throbbing with need, fingers still gripping her arm under the blanket as soft footfalls came towards them.

‘Doc?’

Graham’s voice was quiet, soft in the otherwise empty room, but the Doctor said nothing and Yaz carried on pretending she was sleeping and soon the footsteps were moving away and they heard a door click closed once more.

As soon as they were sure they were alone, Yaz grabbed the Doctor's hand and moved it back between her legs. 

‘So impatient,’ the Doctor said. 

‘You’re a tease,’ Yaz shot back, and she grinned. 

The Doctor wriggled down her body, flinging back the blanket so she could appreciate Yaz properly, and Yaz closed her eyes and arched her back as the Doctor moved slowly down her body; lips kissing her stomach, fingers pressing lightly against her clit, teeth scraping against her hipbone until suddenly -

Yaz arched up into the air and shoved her fist into her mouth as two fingers slid straight inside her and a wet mouth clamped onto her clit and started to  _ suck.  _ She moved her hands to the Doctor's hair, clinging tightly and trying not to crush her head between her thighs as she gasped soundlessly and pressed her body down against the Doctor's fingers and mouth. She was so wound up already and when she looked down and saw the Doctor's blonde head moving between her legs she felt herself hurtling towards an orgasm so quickly she started to shake, gripping the Doctor's hair as she pressed down against her mouth. 

She came apart with a barely hidden moan and sobbed silently as the Doctor licked and sucked and thrust Yaz through her climax, only pushing her head away when the stimulation became too much.

The Doctor wiped her chin and rested her head on Yaz’s stomach with a smug look in her eyes. Yaz was too blissed out to respond and could only tuck the Doctor's hair behind her ear, watching the way the Doctor's eyes softened at the tender gesture. 

Soft hands tugged at her clothes and Yaz reached down to pull her jeans back up, mindful one of the men would likely be awake before her in the morning, and she was reaching for the Doctor when the other woman yawned and shook her head, moving Yaz’s hands away from her t-shirt as she curled against her side and pulled the blanket back up over them; her head resting cosily on Yaz’s shoulder. Yaz could see the hickey she’d left, black and purple against the Doctor's pale skin, and she traced it with a finger as the Doctor's breathing slowly started to even out. 

‘Don’t you want me to -’

‘It was for you, Yaz,’ the Doctor mumbled sleepily. ‘To remind you.’

‘Remind me?’

The Doctor opened her eyes, gazing up at her through sleep-heavy lids.

‘That you’ve never been more alive,’ she whispered.

  
  
  



	12. you don't want to talk so baby shut up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thirteen was SOAKED at the beginning of that episode she 100% fell in the lake.   
> Chapter title is from 'Feed My Frankenstein' by Alice Cooper for obvious reasons.

‘Why do we have to dress up if you just keep wearing a variation of the same outfit?’ Yaz protested. 

‘I’ve changed my top!’ the Doctor shot back, shocked and appalled at the unnecessary attack on her outfit. She’d  _ really  _ tried to find one that was suitable for the time period and had - for about three seconds - considered ‘embracing her feminine side’ and wearing a dress, but had then pictured what her twelfth self would have looked like in a Victorian dress style get up and hadn’t been able to stop laughing for five minutes. 

Until she’d remembered how Bill had looked in her outfit, then she’d stopped pretty quickly.

Plus it was a nice waistcoat, with pockets that were the perfect size for hiding snacks in. 

Lake Geneva stretched out in front of them, the sun glinting on the smooth surface of the water. It was a beautiful, warm day - though storm clouds loomed ominously as the sun set - and the Doctor stood at the edge of the lake; watching the water rippling occasionally in peaceful silence while she waited for the humans to catch up. Parking the TARDIS miles away from the house had - no matter what Graham said - been an accident, and now it looked like it was about to start storming the Doctor was keen to get them all inside as soon as possible. 

A suggestion had been made for her to try and move the TARDIS a little closer, but they’d likely shoot forward a few days or years in the attempt and it  _ had  _ to be tonight. Tonight was the night Mary Shelley came up with the inspiration for Frankenstein. They couldn’t miss this. 

The Doctor turned her head, watching her three friends walking towards her as they spoke and laughed with each other. After the events with Zelin they deserved a nice evening, not one spent with monsters and nightmares. The Doctor was determined to give her friends a nice time. A break they more than deserved. 

Maybe she’d even be able to work out what was going on with Yaz. She’d been quiet ever since the Doctor had picked her up after the incident with the eternals.

Turning back to the lake, the Doctor realised it was reminding her a little of the one that had formed a valley at the base of the mountain of Solitude, back home on Gallifrey. If she moved a little closer and tried to ignore the 19th century air, she could almost pretend she was back on her home planet. 

‘I’m just saying, I reckon you’d suit a proper outfit. It doesn’t have to be a dress, suit and tie would do it.’

Yaz’s voice took her by surprise and the Doctor jolted out of her reverie. She turned around, her boot slipped in the mud, and she just had time to catch Yaz’s horrified face before she realised she’d lost her balance, her arms were pinwheeling in the air, and -

_ Splash. _

Water closed over her head and, for a moment, the Doctor considered simply staying there for a couple of minutes. She could hold her breath for a long time and the bank of the lake wasn’t so deep that she was in any risk of drowning; even with her coat and socks soaking up the water. It was strangely peaceful, floating just underneath the lake with the sun shining through the water, and it would save her the embarrassment of facing her friends. 

A hand shot into the water, grabbed hold of her waistcoat, and pulled her up. 

‘Oi!’ the Doctor protested grumpily when she was dragged back up onto the bank.

_ ‘Oi?’  _ Ryan said incredulously, his smart shoes now covered in mud. ‘You were drowning!’ 

‘No I wasn’t!’ the Doctor protested. ‘I was just - you know -’

Ryan raised an eyebrow, waiting for a response. 

‘Is she alright?’ Yaz yelled, standing at the edge of the bank and peering down at them. 

‘Yeah, she’s fine,’ Ryan said, rolling his eyes. He held out a hand and the Doctor accepted it grumpily, part of her feeling touched Ryan had ran down to her so quickly.

That would have been really handy in the lake at Bilehurst Craig but whatever, she’d take what she could get.

She was utterly soaked from head to foot and the sky above was starting to darken a little, the once cheery and sunny afternoon now replaced with the promise of rain on the horizon. She followed Ryan up the bank, boots squelching in the mud, and realised he hadn’t let go of her hand. Possibly she was helping him balance, rather than the other way round, but it was sweet nonetheless. 

‘Drowned rat, you are,’ Graham chuckled when they’d pulled each other up. He took the scarf from his neck and wrapped it round her own instead, pulling her hood up over her head when the first few splats of rain began to rain down on them. ‘Do you wanna go get changed? Then we’ll head off.’

‘Nah, it’s fine,’ the Doctor said. ‘Looks like we’re gonna get drenched anyway and the TARDIS is -’ she cut herself off before she admitted in front of Graham that it was parked  _ quite  _ a trek away. ‘Come on, fam! I bet they’ll have a fire going.’

She headed off towards the house, wincing as she felt her water-logged socks squelching in her boots. She should really stop and head back into the TARDIS for a change of clothes, but given that she only had the one pair of trousers and coat that would likely mean dressing up and she was  _ not  _ up for that right now. Getting to wear a tux was one thing, all that thick fabric and heavy material worn by the likes of Bryon was quite another, no matter what Yaz thought. And there was no way she’d even  _ consider  _ wearing a corset. 

‘Doctor, you’re soaked!’ Yaz protested, running to catch up with her. ‘Is this another one of your self-sacrificing moments? Cause honestly you just come across as being a bit of an idiot.’ 

‘It’s fine! We can’t be too far away now,’ the Doctor said, though the rain was starting to come down hard and fast now and the way ahead was black with storm clouds. 

A sudden bolt of lightning flashed across the sky, thunder rumbling above their heads, and Yaz heard Ryan let out a yelp from behind them. 

‘If there was something bothering you,’ the Doctor said slowly, trying to lower her voice over the roar of the wind so the other two couldn’t hear. ‘You’d tell me, wouldn’t you?’

‘Course,’ Yaz said, looking confused. ‘I just wish you’d do the same.’

The Doctor scronched and Yaz looked at her pointedly. 

‘We know something’s upsetting you,’ she said. ‘We’re not blind, we’re worried.’

‘You don’t need to be, I’m fine,’ the Doctor said, and Yaz rolled her eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. 

‘Fine. Whatever. It’s not like we care about you or anything.’

‘Yaz!’

‘I mean it, Doctor!’ Yaz insisted. ‘You’re running yourself into the ground, you’re not telling us what’s going on, and we’re  _ worried about you.’ _

‘Are you two fighting?’ Graham’s voice called from behind them, barely carried on the wind. 

‘No!’ both women shot back simultaneously. 

The Doctor bent her head, partly to hide her face from Yaz’s and partly because the rain was pelting her in the eyes. 

A hand slipped into hers and squeezed tightly. 

‘I’m sorry,’ Yaz said. ‘But I won’t stand by and watch you make yourself ill. You need sleep, Doctor.’

The Doctor pulled a face which Yaz must have caught as she sighed and squeezed her hand again. 

‘I know,’ she said quietly. ‘I think that’s the last thing any of us feel like doing at the moment.’

‘Don’t worry,’ the Doctor replied, the corners of her mouth turning up a little in an approximation of a smile. ‘We’re about to get the pants scared off us by Lord Byron and Mary Shelley. Nothing like a ghost story to keep you awake.’

‘Unless you really need to sleep,’ Yaz pointed out. ‘Which you do.’

‘Alright, officer. I didn't know you were the sleep police.’ 

Graham and Ryan appeared beside them, feet slipping in the mud as they struggled onwards. A house was appearing in the distance, large and gothic and looming ominously. Occasionally it would be lit up by a flash of lightning just to make it seem a little  _ more  _ scary, and the Doctor had to keep pulling her hood up when it was blown down by the wind. Despite the fact she’d taken a tumble into a lake not so long ago, the Doctor was doing a sterling job at pretending she wasn’t cold; though Yaz could feel her hand shivering a little inside her own and she tried to press as close to her as the Doctor would allow. 

‘How are we gonna get in, Doc?’ Graham asked once they were walking up the drive towards the house, the sky above now pitch black and the wind doing its utmost to push them all backwards. 

‘I’m sure this’ll help,’ the Doctor said, pulling a slightly sodden black wallet out of her pocket. ‘I’ll just hold it up and hopefully it’ll show them something that’ll convince them to let us in.’

‘Cool, so bluffing it it is then,’ Graham said, rolling his eyes.

‘It’s never failed me before!’ the Doctor said cheerily. ‘Hopefully they’ll have a fire going. And a towel.’ 

They’d arrived at the back door and the Doctor rapped on the wood but no-one answered.

‘Wrong night?’ Ryan suggested, and the Doctor licked the rainwater from around her lips and considered thoughtfully. 

‘No. Right night. S’weird. Come on, answer the door guys it’s a bit rainy outside.’

She knocked again, then again, and was just about to break out the sonic screwdriver to break into the house when the door opened, lightning flashed, and Lord Byron and Mary Shelley screamed in their faces. 

  
  



	13. she's got a tank full of highs and a mind that never sleeps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Has this been in my wips folder for months? Yes. Is it any good? Honestly, who knows. Have some whump.
> 
> Chapter title is (rather aptly) from 'Oxygen' by Catfish and the Bottlemen.

It was a stupid way to go and the Doctor was almost mad at herself. 

Almost.

She always chose her words with care (sometimes) and always meant them (more than often) and wasn’t afraid to say what needed to be said (when she was feeling confrontational, which was virtually all the time these days).

Still, death by talking too much though…

Well, death by lack of oxygen was more accurate but there was a reason her oxygen tank had run out first and her friends’ were still going. She preferred that though, always. She’d give her oxygen to one of her friends in a heartbeat if she had to; even if they weren’t as close as they had been at this present moment in time. 

That wasn’t necessarily her fault, though as soon as she thought it she knew it was wrong, but going through the intricacies of her relationship with the Master AND the slightly dubious morals upheld by her own race would take  _ days;  _ though she didn't doubt for a second her friends would sit and listen for as long as she needed to talk.

If she was going to talk, which she wasn’t. Talking was hard, saying nothing was easier. She wished she’d thought of that before burning through her oxygen canister. 

Yaz tried to speak to her but she held up her arm, the red on her tank flashing urgently, and made a gesture across her throat. She was out of oxygen and her respiratory bypass would only hold her for so long. If her friends’ tanks were on red they’d already be gasping on her knees, but she could hold on for a little longer. How long for though she wasn’t sure, already her head was beginning to pound and she could hear herself wheezing as her lungs begged for air. 

Well, not lungs, but the equivalent thereof. 

She moved forward in the dark, keeping her legs moving and ignoring the persistent voice of the tank and the burn in her chest. Her friends were getting ahead of her, moving more quickly through the tunnel, and the sound of her desperate gasps for breath sounded harsh in her ears. She felt a little hurt her friends weren’t looking back to her, though she knew it was unfair of her to think that. She certainly didn't want them to waste their own precious oxygen just to check she was okay. 

Though that wouldn’t make dying alone any less suckier. 

Her vision was blurring, head thumping, and her not-lungs were aching so bad there was pain radiating across her chest and gripping her hearts, squeezing the life from her. She tried to cough but the motion forced her to her knees as the tank on her arm let out a high pitched whine before finally going dead. 

Well, this was it then. It had been good. 

Good ish.

She pressed her face against the cold, wet ground. At least she’d stopped wheezing, though that was likely because her hearts were slowing down and her vision was slowly darkening as she began to spiral downwards. She wouldn’t even be able to regenerate. Regenerating in a room with no oxygen was like regenerating underwear. Evolutionarily pointless. 

She closed her eyes and breathed her last. 

Dying alone was as sucky as she thought it would be. 

And there still weren't any stars. 

* * *

‘Wait, where’s the Doctor?’

They’d made it to the stairs before Yaz had realised the other member of their group wasn’t with them. She’d heard the warning from the Doctor’s oxygen tank but the Doctor was good at holding her breath, wasn’t she? 

‘She was right behind us,’ Graham said, peering down the corridor into the gloom. ‘Wait, Yaz!’

Yaz was already halfway down the corridor, treading carefully as she moved past the sleeping Dregs with Ryan close behind her. 

‘Don’t be so daft,’ Kane said. ‘We can’t go back for her.’

‘We’re not leaving her,’ Graham told her, as though that was obvious. ‘You guys carry on, we’ll meet you up there.’ 

He caught up with Ryan and Yaz quickly and they stuck together as they moved through the darkness, ignoring the steadily flashing orange light on their oxygen cylinders and tiptoeing past the sleeping Dregs. 

‘There she is!’ Yaz hissed, picking up the pace when she saw her friend’s prone form sprawled on the cold, hard ground. She dropped to the Doctor’s side and rolled her onto her back, shaking her shoulders and calling her name as loudly as she dared with the Dregs around them. The Doctor's oxygen canister was blank. It was completely out. 

‘Is she…?’

Graham was almost too scared to ask the question. The Doctor was completely still, face slack, lips tinged blue.

‘We can’t stay here,’ Ryan said, looking up at the Dreg stood motionless in front of them. Its eyes were shut but Ryan didn't doubt it wouldn’t take much to wake it up. 

He knelt down and, as carefully as he could, manhandled their unconscious (not dead, he wouldn’t say dead) friend up into his arms, grunting under her weight. Yaz was hovering over her, faffing at her neck as she tried to find a pulse, but Ryan quickly moved away; heading back towards the stairs and their escape route, the Doctor a dead weight against him. 

Climbing the stairs was difficult and in the end he had to be practically pushed up by Graham and Yaz, keeping his arms steady so he didn't lose his balance or drop his friend. 

They emerged into the food court and Ryan dropped to his knees, sweat pouring down his face and back as he laid the Doctor down on the floor, panting with the exertion.

Yaz was at her side in an instant, worried hands pressing at her neck, reaching for her wrist as her face became more and more panicked. 

‘She’s not breathing,’ Yaz cried. ‘I can’t feel a heartbeat. I think - I think she’s…’

‘What do we do?’ Graham urged. ‘Come on. Her physiology can’t be too different from ours, aside from the two hearts and the ectospleen. Do we give CPR a go?’

But Yaz was way ahead of him, bending her head to press her lips against the Doctor’s as she tilted up her chin and blew air into her lungs before pressing down hard on her sternum as she started compressions. She had no idea if she was doing it properly, didn't even know if CPR would  _ work  _ on someone with two hearts, but if she was dead anyway then what was the harm in trying?

‘Come on, love,’ Graham urged, squeezing her hand. ‘Wake up.’

Ryan alternated CPR with Yaz but it was no use, it wasn’t working and it was becoming harder to see with tears pouring down his cheeks. He felt bone crunch under his hands and he pulled them away, unable to go on. 

‘She’s gone, Yaz,’ he said sadly as Yaz tried mouth to mouth again, calling the Doctor's name in a pleading, heartbroken tone. 

‘No, no she can’t be gone,’ Yaz sobbed. ‘She can’t. She  _ can’t.’ _

She pressed her face against the Doctor's neck, shoulders wracked with sobs as she clung to her. Ryan placed his hand on Yaz’s shoulder and Graham held the Doctor's hand in his own, feeling her fingers limp in his own.

Then, movement. Almost imperceptible and something Graham would have totally missed if he hadn’t been looking at the Doctor's still face. 

Her eye twitched and the fingers in his own flexed in his hand. 

‘Yaz, get off her love,’ Graham said, pushing Yaz carefully away. ‘Look.  _ Look.’ _

The Doctor blinked open groggy eyes and looked up at her fam. 

‘Did someone break my ribs?’ she wheezed.

_ ‘Doctor.’  _

Yaz looked like she was torn between crying and laughing so she settled for lying on the floor beside her friend and wrapping an arm across her waist instead; trying to hold her awkwardly as the Doctor looked up at the ceiling, blurry vision turning towards Graham and Ryan.

‘Where -?’

‘We’re in the food court,’ Graham said. ‘Ryan carried you up the stairs.’

‘I might have banged your arm on the railings,’ Ryan admitted, looking guilty.

‘You’re forgiven,’ the Doctor said with a lopsided smile. ‘Can someone help me up?’

It took all three of them to get her back to her feet and for a second the Doctor only hung there, supported by Ryan and Yaz as she pressed a hand to her broken rib and gritted her teeth through the pain. 

‘Sorry,’ Ryan whispered. ‘That might have been me.’

‘S’alright,’ she mumbled. ‘Just a fracture, nothing serious. You didn't need to though, you know, for next time. I wasn’t dead.’

‘You looked it,’ Ryan told her at the same time Graham spluttered:  _ ‘what do you mean next time?!’ _

Yaz looked like she wanted to hit her but his face quickly creased in concern when the Doctor surged forwards regardless of her injury, waving off their hands and refusing help. 

‘Come on,’ she grunted. ‘The sooner we get off this planet the better. Where did Kane and the others go?’

‘Doc,’ Graham said, incredulous. ‘You can’t be serious. You’re hurt! Let us help you.’

‘No!’ the Doctor yelled when Yaz reached out a hand to hold onto her elbow. Yaz pulled her hand away, crestfallen and almost on the verge of tears. 

‘I’m alright,’ the Doctor said quietly, though she clearly wasn’t. ‘Come on, let’s get a shift on.’

Graham, Ryan, and Yaz exchanged worried looks as she stumbled away from them, but what could they do?

They followed after her, making sure they weren’t so far away that they couldn’t catch her if she fell. 

‘Don’t worry, Yaz,’ Graham said reassuringly. ‘She’ll be alright. She just needs a good sleep.’ 

‘I know,’ Yaz said quietly, who’d passed by the library or the workshop on the way to her bedroom only to see the Doctor rubbing her tired eyes then downing coffee on more than one occasion. Sleep clearly wasn’t something their friend was a fan of. ‘That’s what I’m worried about.’ 


	14. but now that I got ya it keeps gettin' hotter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In these trying times, have some smut.   
> Plot if you squint.  
> Chapter title is from 'Blown' by DNCE.

If there was one thing Yaz knew she hated more than anything else, it was being covered in slime.

Sure, when you’re a kid it’s fun and an adventure, but when you’re an adult  _ you’re  _ the one that has to wash it out of your hair and that takes  _ forever.  _

Yaz scowled as she felt the sticky substance still in her long dark locks. She’d been standing under the hot spray of the shower for at least 30 minutes now yet the slime was barely washed away. She couldn’t stay mad at the Doctor though, not at her crestfallen face when she’d realised that a) the TARDIS had gotten slightly off course and b) it was the Rucrestian’s mating season. The Doctor had also had a healthy dose of the stuff, though Graham and Ryan had both gotten away with it and had instead laughed themselves stupid at the resigned expression on the two women’s faces. Yaz wasn’t sure where the Doctor was now and she cursed the other woman’s shorter and not as thick hair. Yaz had often considered cutting her own hair short but she knew she never would, she loved braiding it too much. 

Bending down to unclog the shower drain once more, Yaz tried to push the image of the Doctor soaked to her skin out of her mind. It was slightly easier to do when you considered the fact that she’d been covered in slime, rather than participating in any form of wet t-shirt contest, but Yaz had been admiring the Doctor's slim frame ever since she’d come aboard and that image certainly had helped things along.

Lathering yet more shampoo into her hair, Yaz pulled a face. She knew she was crushing hard on the Doctor. With her perfect face, easygoing smile and bright happy eyes it was hard not to. Yaz just wished she’d chosen someone who wasn’t thousands of years old and - also - an  _ alien  _ to crush on.

_ Does that matter though?  _ Yaz considered as she ran the shampoo through her slime soaked hair.  _ If we both feel the same way about each other?  _

Though of course there was no inclination that the Doctor felt anything for her at all and Yaz wasn’t so far gone in her crush to believe that the Doctor could honestly fall for a human. Undoubtably she’d travelled with many humans before and had managed to avoid crushes on all of them. Yaz was just another of her friends who would leave eventually and therefore wasn’t worth getting involved with.

Yaz paused. She’d never considered that before yet the more she thought about it the more sense it made. Of course the Doctor would never try and pursue a relationship with her, why would she? She’d be destined for heartbreak when Yaz left her or died after getting eaten by some horrible giant alien bug. 

_ Except I wouldn’t leave her,  _ Yaz thought, then she sighed as she realised that she would age and die whereas the Doctor would stay young and beautiful. Or she’d do that regurgitating thing she’d mentioned. Was it regurgitating? Sounded painful. 

Hair feeling less full of slime - though she could still feel it coating some of the strands - Yaz leant back against the shower wall and closed her eyes as the hot water came thundering down over her. She let her hand slide down her belly, core twitching in anticipation as she tried to imagine it was the Doctor touching her in this way, the Doctor pressing her up against the wall as she kissed her neck and ran her hands across smooth skin.

At the first touch of her fingers against her clit Yaz’s legs almost buckled, but she bit her lip and kept her back pressed against the cool tiles as she dipped her fingers down and through her legs; feeling the wetness that hadn’t just come from the shower head above her. As she slid her fingers back up through herself she pressed the pad of her index finger against her clit and massaged it gently in small circles, biting back a quiet moan as the pleasure began to build. This wasn’t the first time she’d touched herself thinking about the Doctor, though usually she was in the dark under her bedsheets and not in the communal women’s showers with only a thin frosted-glass door separating her from the rest of the room. 

Yaz’s fingers twitched against herself as she pictured the Doctor stood there dripping with slime, her t-shirt so damp it was stuck to her skin and her neck arching as she pushed slime-soaked blonde hair out of her face. She pictured how the Doctor would look with her body under her own, how her neck would arch then as Yaz slipped her fingers inside her, how she’d cover that pretty pale neck with hickies and kiss those soft lips until they were swollen and begging her for more.

Yaz moved her fingers more quickly against her clit, gasping and moaning as she brought her other hand up to her breast and squeezed her nipple. She could feel pleasure building like pressure in her abdomen and she knew it wouldn’t be long before -

‘Yaz!?’

With a yelp, Yaz jumped and smacked the back of her head against the shower wall as the door was shoved open by a slime-soaked Doctor who stared at her in shock. 

_ ‘Doctor!’  _ Yaz protested as she tried to cover herself with her hands. She could hear her heart thumping in her head as heat rose into her face. The Doctor had just  _ caught her masterbating in the shower.  _

‘Sorry!’ the Doctor said, quickly looking up at the ceiling and away from Yaz. ‘I heard moaning, I thought you were hurt.’

‘Nope,’ Yaz said, flush with embarrassment. ‘Not hurt. Just trying to get slime out my hair.’

‘Oh, okay,’ the Doctor said, still staring at the ceiling. ‘I’ll just, um, bye!’

The door closed quickly and Yaz pressed her hands against her face once she was alone once more, utterly mortified. The Doctor was an alien, right? She wouldn’t have known what she was doing, right? Although Yaz knew that was extremely unlikely. The Doctor was also a woman who (probably? likely?) had the same equipment as Yaz and also had years of experience in knowing how to use it. The things she could show her…

_ No,  _ Yaz yelled at herself internally.  _ Don’t go there.  _ She could hear the sound of clothing hitting the floor outside, after which the water began to run in the stall next to hers and she heard the Doctor’s quiet humming. She resumed washing her hair ferociously, desperate to be out of the shower and back in the safety of her room, when she heard the door next to hers creak open and then the Doctor's quiet voice as she stood outside her stall.

‘Um… Yaz? Would you mind helping me?’

Yaz’s head was full of muffled screaming, but she swallowed hard and walked carefully towards the door, reaching out with a hand against the glass. 

‘Are you okay?’

‘Yeah.’ The Doctor sounded embarrassed and a little awkward. Yaz knew the feeling. ‘I just can’t get this stuff out of my hair. How have you been doing it?’

‘Patience,’ Yaz said, and the Doctor made a distressed noise. 

‘Urgh. I’m no good at that.’

‘A lot of shampoo helps.’

‘I’m running out,’ the Doctor sounded apologetic, and Yaz remembered the reason she’d chosen this stall was because she’d nearly exhausted the shampoo supply in the one the Doctor had chosen. The TARDIS usually kept the supplies topped up though. Why hadn’t she on this occasion?

Yaz had a feeling she knew the answer to that, though she didn't want to voice it aloud and glared up at the ceiling instead. She had a feeling the ship was smirking at her. 

‘You’re welcome to use mine.’

‘Great!’ the Doctor's voice sounded cheerier, and a few seconds later Yaz felt herself stumbling back as the shower door opened and the Doctor came in; making a beeline for the bottle of shampoo. She was still mostly covered in slime and a good deal of it was still in her hair. That was extremely easy for Yaz to pick up on because she was -

_ Stark bollock naked.  _

Yaz pressed her hands over her eyes but it was too late. The image of the Doctor's naked body was now firmly in her mind and she wouldn’t have to picture her covered in slime any more, she’d experienced the real thing. The soft slender curves of her hips, the flatness of her stomach, the soft swell of her breasts and the slender muscular arms and legs and -

Yaz tried to think of anything other than her naked friend - who she could currently hear humming as she stood next to her and lathered up her hair in shampoo - as desire thrummed through her and her core began to throb urgently. How was she supposed to survive this??

‘You okay, Yaz?’ the Doctor asked, sounding concerned. ‘Wait… have I misjudged this?! You invited me in to get shampoo, did I get that wrong?’

_ Yes. _

‘No,’ Yaz spluttered, turning her back on the Doctor as she picked up the discarded shampoo bottle and restarted her attempt to get the last dollops of slime out of her hair. ‘I just thought I’d maybe pass it to you under the door or something.’

‘Oh.’

The Doctor sounded crestfallen and Yaz immediately backpedaled. 

‘It’s fine though! I mean you did ask for help getting the stuff out your hair. It’s really in there isn’t it?’

‘I was thinking about you and your long hair, wondering how you were getting on,’ the Doctor admitted, and Yaz almost died on the spot. 

_ She’s imagined me in the shower.  _

‘Would you mind?’ the Doctor asked, and Yaz felt a tap on her shoulder.

She took a deep breath, girded her loins (quite literally) and turned around, making sure to focus on the Doctor's face and the Doctor's face only, not her collarbones or the slope of her breasts or her -

_ Face, Yaz, face,  _ Yaz reprimanded herself as the Doctor turned around so Yaz could massage the shampoo into short blonde locks. She tried not to remember how she’d pictured this moment many times already and squeezed her thighs together as she felt heat pooling between them. This was not the time.

They were silent for a moment, but this suited Yaz and she found it was easier to concentrate on the process of lathering, rinsing, lathering, rinsing, until she’d gotten most of the slime out of the Doctor's hair and hadn’t even noticed they’d both been silent for a while. 

‘Why were you moaning my name?’ the Doctor said suddenly, and Yaz’s hands stalled in her hair. She hadn’t been moaning, had she? She’d been silent as far as she’d been aware.

‘Moaning…?’

‘Yeah. It’s why I burst in on you. I heard you moaning my name and thought you needed help.’

For a moment, Yaz forgot how to breathe and she stood - motionless - as a mixture of emotions washed over her. Her eyes dropped to the Doctor’s hips, the dip of her lower back, the curve of her backside. She must know, musn’t she? But then the Doctor wasn’t one for making people feel embarrassed (unless they deserved it) and she was, by her own admission, socially awkward. 

‘Was I?’ Yaz said, snapping her eyes back up to the Doctor’s hair and focusing again on lathering, rinsing, lathering, rinsing.

‘Yeah,’ the Doctor persisted. ‘I just wanted you to know why I bursted in. I mean, I hope you wouldn’t think I’d do that normally. Bit rude. But you sounded upset and I thought you needed help. I wouldn’t just open the door on people in the shower normally, I promise.’

‘I know,’ Yaz said. ‘I - I just didn't realise I was, um, moaning your name.’

‘Were you having a nightmare standing up?’ the Doctor asked and  _ damn  _ was she persistent. Yaz was grateful they weren’t facing each other as she knew her face must be scarlet by now. 

‘Did you think I have nightmares about you?’ Yaz asked, bemused, and she could almost see the responding scronch.

‘Maybe?’

‘It wasn’t a nightmare.’

What was it, then?’

‘I was -’   
The words died on the end of Yaz’s tongue. How could she say them? How could she admit what she’d been doing in the instant before the Doctor had barged in? Surely she must have seen her touching herself, the Doctor was very proud of her eyesight. 

‘You were -?’

Realisation shot through Yaz as soon as she saw the sly motion of the Doctor's thighs rubbing against each other almost imperceptibly and the deep flush at the base of her neck which Yaz knew would be climbing up her face. She had seen. She knew  _ exactly  _ what Yaz had been doing. She just wanted her to admit it. But the Doctor wasn’t one for humiliation. Certainly not the type of humiliation that came from barging into your naked friend’s shower stall asking them to help with your hair whilst simultaneously questioning them on the  _ very obvious activity  _ they’d caught you doing barely minutes before. 

The Doctor knew and the only reason she’d be trying to get Yaz to admit it was because -

_ She felt the same.  _

Yaz put down the bottle of shampoo and - taking a deep breath and reaching down inside herself for a burst of courage - stood in front of the Doctor. 

The Doctor looked at her with those beautiful green eyes, lips parted slightly, cheeks flushed a little though Yaz guessed it wasn’t just from the heat of the water or the steam around them.

‘What do you really want to ask me?’ Yaz whispered, her voice croaky and dry.

The Doctor's gaze dropped to her lips and Yaz felt her core throb urgently in response. She knew want when she saw it. 

‘When I saw you, you know, doing  _ that  _ whilst moaning my name I - um - I wanted to know, I guess, I mean I’ve never - urgh, I -’

‘You wanted to know what it felt like?’ Yaz whispered. Her heart was pounding, stomach twisting, core throbbing, and the Doctor looked so innocent and gorgeous and -

_ She wants me. _

‘Yes,’ the Doctor said quietly, and Yaz surged forwards to kiss her without hesitation. 

The Doctor responded greedily, hands on her hips as she pulled her in closer and their bare breasts pushing against each other. Yaz pushed the Doctor against the wall, fisting her hands in now slime-free hair as she urgently pushed inside her mouth with her tongue whilst wetness seeped down the inside of her thigh and her core throbbed and burned with desire. 

The Doctor moaned happily against her mouth as she sucked on Yaz’s tongue, hands travelling up Yaz’s waist and stopping just below her breasts. Yaz didn't know why she was being so polite now, unless she was being a tease. They were both naked in the shower. The rulebook had been burned. 

Yaz reached down to pull the Doctor’s hands up and over her breasts, gasping as the Doctor immediately started to rub lightly at her nipples with the pads of her fingers. For someone who’d always seem so indifferent towards sex she certainly knew what she was doing, and Yaz reprimanded herself for ever thinking the Doctor would need to be led through this blindly. She may not have any experience on herself as a woman, but she certainly had experience.

Speaking of.

Yaz’s hands dropped to the Doctor's face to cradle it as she kissed her softly, the Doctor practically moulded against her as she carefully traced her lips with her tongue before diving back in and pushing their breasts together so firmly she could feel the Doctor's hands squashed between them. 

When the Doctor was practically putty in her hands, Yaz carefully pushed a leg in between the Doctor's and angled it slightly upwards.

The effect was instantaneous and the Doctor moaned into her mouth, moving her hands from Yaz’s breasts to her hips to grip hold of tightly. 

‘Yaz, oh, Yaz,’ she begged, dropped her head to Yaz’s shoulder and Yaz slowly began to move her knee, feeling wetness and heat against her bare skin.

‘You really are new to this,’ Yaz murmured when the Doctor began to pant. ‘Have you never…’

‘I tried, a couple of times,’ the Doctor confessed. ‘But I could never get anything going, it just felt weird.’

‘Was I really moaning your name?’ Yaz asked as a thought occurred to her, and the Doctor gasped as Yaz pressed upwards with her knee.

‘N-no,’ the Doctor admitted, almost grinding herself against Yaz’s knee. ‘But I knew you were thinking about me. You were so flushed. It was a bit of a gamble, paid off though.’

Yaz pressed upwards a little firmer and the Doctor let out a quiet whimper. Yaz, though she knew, wondered how this could have happened. How she, a simple police officer from Sheffield, could have the Doctor, an actual alien genius, panting and whimpering against her skin and melting like butter in her hands. 

‘Legs apart,’ Yaz murmured quietly, withdrawing her knee, and the Doctor was quick to obey. Her eyes were dark and her breath was coming out in quick bursts as Yaz settled herself between her legs and carefully ran her hand up the inside of the Doctor's thigh, hearing the quiet plea from the other woman’s lips as she stopped just short of where she wanted her. She could feel wetness against the Doctor's thigh and heat from her core and she bent her head to suck a hickey into the Doctor's neck, feeling twin hearts beating wildly against their breasts. It reminded me that she was about to have sex with an alien but she tried to ignore it. A vagina was a vagina, no matter how many hearts the person it belonged to had. 

‘It can be a bit intense the first time,’ Yaz said softly. ‘Tell me if you want me to stop.’

The Doctor nodded and put her hands on Yaz’s hips. It was as though she was bracing herself in preparation and Yaz almost wanted to laugh, but when the Doctor's eyes closed and her head tilted back as Yaz carefully slid a finger through the length of her it was all she could not to come on the spot. The Doctor let out a moan, low and guttural, and when Yaz pressed a finger cautiously against her clit her knees almost buckled. 

‘W-why doesn’t it feel like that when I-I…’

‘You need to learn your own body,’ Yaz said, pressing a kiss against the Doctor's neck when she cried out as Yaz carefully circled her clit with her fingers. ‘Plus I’ve always found it’s more fun with someone else.’

The Doctor whimpered again, clinging tightly to Yaz, and she let out quiet gasps into Yaz’s shoulder as Yaz carefully began to set up a rhythm with her fingers, circling over the Doctor's clit then dropping down to her entrance to gather more wetness before continuing her ministrations on her clit again. She dropped her mouth to the Doctor's breasts, keeping up the rhythm with her fingers as she gently tugged a nipple into her mouth and sucked on it lightly. 

She suspected the Doctor was grateful she was backed up against the wall. Yaz was pretty sure her body weight against her own was the only thing keeping her upright. 

‘Yaz - Yaz - oh, Yaz…’

The Doctor gasped again, moving her hands to Yaz’s hair and moaning loudly. Yaz could feel the Doctor's legs shaking beneath her hand and she carefully moved her fingers down to her entrance, continuing to suck and bite lightly at her nipple as she carefully eased her fingertip into tight, wet heat. 

‘Oh.’

Yaz quickly released the Doctor's breast and looked up at her. The Doctor's eyes were wide and she looked shocked, though Yaz could feel her pushing her hips down as she sunk onto Yaz’s finger. She felt heat engalf the digit and now it was her turn to whimper, peppering the Doctor's neck in kisses as she tried to ignore the throbbing from between her own legs at the realisation she was  _ inside the Doctor.  _

‘Is that okay?’ Yaz mumbled against the Doctor's neck, and she felt the Doctor urgently nod her consent. 

‘Yes. Just new, but good new.’

Yaz kissed her messily, teeth clashing and tongues sliding against each other as she found a new rhythm thrusting upwards with her finger and rubbing the Doctor's clit with her thumb until the Doctor was gripping hold of her tightly and panting and begging into her mouth. When Yaz sped up a little she felt pulsing hot walls begin to quiver and the Doctor started to look slightly panicked. 

‘Yaz, what’s happening -?’

‘Hang onto me,’ Yaz told her, kissing her cheek and focusing on her clit as she moved her finger inside and against her until the Doctor was gripping hold of her arms so tightly it almost hurt and clenching around her finger as she cried out and moaned her pleasure, head tipping back against the wall and closing her eyes as the shower spray cascaded over her face. She shuddered in Yaz’s arms and when Yaz carefully moved her finger out of her she let out a quiet whimper and her legs failed her. She slid down the wall, bringing Yaz with her, and pressed her face into Yaz’s hair as she rode out the aftershocks. 

‘Well?’ Yaz asked, heart pounding once the Doctor was slightly more composed and her breathing was back in a semi-regular rhythm. She felt anxious, as though she’d taken advantage of the Doctor's lust and her own want, but when the Doctor grinned loopily at her through a fringe of wet blonde hair she was instantly reassured. 

_ ‘Amazing,  _ Yaz.  _ Brilliant  _ even.’ 

‘Good,’ Yaz said, smiling against the Doctor's lips when the blonde leaned forward to kiss her soothingly. It felt strangely peaceful, sitting in the shower spray with the Doctor against her kissing as though they’d been doing it for years, and she’d almost forgotten her own desire when a hand smoothing gently across the top of her thigh reminded her of it very quickly and she felt her core clench and fresh wetness seep between her legs. 

‘You - you don’t have to,’ Yaz said, voice dry. ‘Is this is your first time it’s okay -’

‘First time as a woman maybe,’ the Doctor said, a smirk on her face and her eyes twinkling. ‘First time  _ with  _ a woman? No.’ 

Yaz could only stare at her, not trusting her voice as her heart pounding and her core ached. 

‘Lie back,’ the Doctor said quietly, pushing at her gently until Yaz was flat on her back on the shower floor and the Doctor was kneeling between her legs. 

The Doctor leant over her, lips closing over her nipple as she sucked gently with her mouth and used her hand to tug lightly on the other nipple. Yaz’s hips snapped upwards unconsciously, desperate for attention where she was aching and hot, but the Doctor only continued to suck and rub and bite lightly at her nipples - alternating between the two - until Yaz was squirming on the floor, moving her hips as she tried to find relief for the throbbing between her legs. 

The Doctor's fingers between her legs was sudden and unexpected and Yaz cried out as she immediately sunk two fingers straight into her and thrust lightly with a quiet qasp. 

‘You’re so wet, Yaz,’ the Doctor mumbled, biting at her collarbone and sucking a hickey into her skin. ‘You’re so desperate for me.’

‘Get on with it then,’ Yaz pleaded, moving her hips in time with the Doctor's thrusts and whimpering when the other woman kept the same irritatingly slow rhythm.

‘All good things,’ the Doctor said softly, gazing at her with such love in her eyes Yaz felt her heart ache. Then she smirked and ducked her head down and Yaz moaned as suddenly a wet tongue was swiping through her and her clit was being sucked firmly enough to almost fling her straight into an orgasm.

The Doctor seemed to notice this as she immediately slowed down and Yaz grasped hold of her shoulders, panting into the air as the shower water hit the Doctor's back and the fingers inside her curled and pressed upwards whilst her tongue continued to worship her clit until it was Yaz’s turn to whimper and plead. She looked down at the blonde’s head between her legs and moved her hips urgently, chasing her climax as the Doctor sped up her thrusts and sucked at her clit again. Yaz felt embarrassed to have even  _ considered  _ that the Doctor didn't have experience. She most certainly did. 

The Doctor lapped at her clit in broad, rhythmic strokes of her tongue. Yaz almost felt embarrassed at how quickly she felt herself hurtling towards the edge, but she’d been on edge ever since she’d been interrupted and the noises she’d pulled out of the Doctor hadn’t helped matters either. 

Speaking of, the Doctor moaned between her legs, lips taking Yaz’s clit into her mouth and sucking lightly, and Yaz came apart completely. She gripped onto the Doctor's head, crying out as waves of pleasure smacked into her and she felt her vision blur as the Doctor continued to lick and thrust her through it.

When she finally opened her eyes again, the Doctor was lying on her belly looking up at her with a loopy, sleepy expression, and Yaz reached out a hand to tuck wet hair behind her ear. 

‘You okay up there?’ the Doctor asked, and Yaz smiled. 

‘More than okay.’

The Doctor stood carefully then held out a hand to pull Yaz back to her feet, laughing when the younger woman almost toppled over on shaky legs. 

‘Lemme get the last of this slime out of your hair before we both prune,’ the Doctor said, reaching for the shampoo bottle. ‘Then I think an early night is in order.’

‘Will you stay?’ Yaz asked, the words leaving her lips before she had a chance to consider the implications, and she felt the Doctor pause behind her. 

‘Of course I will,’ the Doctor said softly. ‘If that’s what you want.’

‘It’s all I’ve ever wanted,’ Yaz replied, turning around to catch the Doctor looking at her with love-filled eyes. ‘To get you to take a nap, I mean.’

The Doctor laughed and when Yaz pulled her into a kiss she was still smiling.

‘Sleepover with Yaz?’ the Doctor mumbled against her lips.  _ ‘Brilliant.’  _


	15. God damn right, you should be scared of me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly dark/dubious!Doctor in this chapter.
> 
> Title is from 'Control' by Halsey

She looked different. Not even slightly different either, a  _ lot  _ different. 

‘Your hair’s longer,’ Graham observed, noting the Doctor's blonde hair now went past her shoulders and was way overdue for a cut. He was by no means a fashion icon, but he knew the Doctor liked to keep her hair neat and tidy and her current hairdo was anything but. It was scraggly and looked like she hadn’t brushed it for a while. 

‘Yeah, I’ve been meaning to get a trim,’ the Doctor replied, plastering a fake smile on her face. 

That was the other thing, her behaviour. She’d barely looked at the three of them since they’d walked in and Ryan noted her hands were shaking a little and she was constantly fiddling with her coat or her sonic or literally anything to keep herself occupied. 

Ryan had already noticed the empty bottles under the console, but he’d decided not to say anything. It was clear it had been a lot longer for the Doctor than the two days they’d waited for her, and it was equally clear she’d experienced some things that had shaken her up a little in the meantime. He wasn’t expecting her to be forthcoming about her experiences however. The Doctor very rarely opened up to them about her own personal life. 

‘What happened to your cheek?’ Yaz asked softly. ‘It hasn’t healed.’ 

‘It was quite deep,’ the Doctor mumbled, looking down at the console. ‘It’s fine though, just a bit itchy.’

That was the other most prominent change. If you looked past the longer, messier hair, the dark circles under her eyes, the clear signs of alcohol withdrawal and the general  _ unkemptness  _ of her you reached the scar on her cheek. It wasn’t long, perhaps an inch or so, but it was red and ugly against her pale skin. 

‘Looks painful, Doc,’ Graham said, shooting Yaz a worried glance. This certainly wasn’t the Doctor they’d left behind but she was giving them nothing. No hints, barely any words, not even proper hugs. 

‘You sure you’re up for a trip?’ Yaz asked uncertainly. ‘You look a little - um…’

She turned to the two men but they had nothing to offer. The Doctor looked like she’d been on a bender for weeks but Yaz was far too polite to say it. 

‘You look like shit, Doc,’ Graham said, who wasn’t too polite to point out the obvious. ‘I think you need a nap rather than a trip.’

‘Charming,’ the Doctor muttered, then she took a deep breath and turned round to face her fam; another one of those fake smiles on her face. ‘I’m fine,’ she said. ‘Honestly. Been a rough couple of weeks that’s all. I’m glad you guys are here, I’ve missed you! Shall we head off somewhere fun? I’m thinking milkshakes in the anti-gravity bar on Cloron Major.  _ Amazing  _ banana flavour. People should eat more bananas’ - she turned back to the console, flicked a switch with a lost expression - ‘bananas are good.’ 

‘I think it’s been a bit longer than a couple of weeks, Doctor,’ Ryan said gently. ‘Hair doesn’t grow that quick, does it, Yaz?’

But Yaz didn't hear the question. She was rummaging through her bag and looking more and more irritated as whatever it was she was searching for failed to appear. Graham snuck a look at the Doctor's face whilst she was preoccupied. He’d never seen anyone look more miserable in his life. 

‘Urgh, sorry. I think I left my phone back in the flat. Is it okay if we pop in and get it quickly? I told Sonya I’d try and keep in touch,’ Yaz said, patting down her pockets just in case. 

Graham saw something that looked like panic flash across the Doctor's face, but she nodded anyway. Ryan and Yaz didn't seem to have noticed.

‘Of course! Not seen your family for a while. That’ll be nice. Are they okay?’

They stepped outside into the cold Sheffield air, the wind blowing around them and the first drops of rain splashing against their clothes. The Doctor was huddled in her coat, hands in her pockets, and Graham noticed she looked thinner in her clothes; more vulnerable and fragile. He found himself wishing he’d grabbed her rainbow scarf off the hat stand, but settled for handing her his instead; her eyes soft as she thanked him and wrapped it around her neck gratefully. That was another thing that had changed. The Doctor never felt the cold. 

‘Doc,’ he said softly as Yaz and Ryan strolled on ahead. ‘You’re not being honest with us, and that’s alright - I mean, you don’t have to tell us everything, but can you tell me right now,  _ honestly,  _ are you okay?’

‘I will be,’ the Doctor whispered, and this time when she looked up at him, her smile was genuine, if a little sad.

‘You’re back soon!’ Najia said as the four of them stepped into the Khan’s flat, Hakim calling a cheery hello from the kitchen.

‘Forgot my phone,’ Yaz said apologetically. ‘I’ll only be a sec then we’ll be out of your hair.’

‘It’s on the kitchen counter,’ Najia called after her. ‘I thought you’d probably want it. Hello Ryan, Graham, Doct-’

She trailed off as she took in the sight of the Doctor, hair limp around her face and eyes pointed resolutely downwards. 

‘Hello, love,’ she said instead, voice steady though worry painted itself across her face. ‘Why don’t you guys have a cuppa first? It’ll be nice to have a catch up.’ 

Once sat on the sofa, the Doctor was itchy, practically bouncing on her seat and foot tapping anxiously against the floor. She kept looking up towards the door, as though she was expecting someone, and it wasn’t until Yaz put a hand on her knee that she finally sat still; looking at Yaz with large eyes through the untidy tangle of her hair. 

‘Doctor,’ Yaz said softly so Graham, Ryan, and the rest of her family couldn’t hear her. ‘What is going on? Tell me.’

‘I can’t, Yaz,’ the Doctor replied, and Yaz was shocked to find tears in her eyes. ‘But I swear, I  _ swear,  _ you’re gonna be okay.’

‘Okay?’ Yaz frowned. ‘Why wouldn’t I be okay?’

Then the door banged open and three men ran in, the flash of knives in their hands catching the light from the window and making the steel shine. They all looked crazed, the three of them dressed in black and clearly high on something, and the Doctor grabbed Yaz’s arm and pulled her up from the chair, dragging her behind her and pushing her back into the kitchen. Her reflexes were so fast that Yaz didn't get a chance to figure out why she was suddenly getting shoved backwards and it wouldn’t be until later that she realised the Doctor had moved before the door had even opened. 

‘Alright, guys, take it easy,’ Graham said, hands up as the men moved further into the room; unable to tear his eyes away from the knives. They were ugly things, proper butcher’s knives, and Yaz felt her heart thudding hard in her chest. 

‘Why don’t you put that down,’ the Doctor said soothingly, though Yaz could see her hands shaking. ‘Whatever it is you want, you can just ask, you don’t need to wave knives around.’ 

She had her hands out in front of her and Ryan realised there was a cuff, almost like a bracelet, around her right wrist. It was gold and had the same circular inscriptions around it as the TARDIS had on its console. It was also flashing, like it was counting down, and Ryan saw the Doctor glance at it quickly. 

‘Any valuables, kick them over here,’ one of the men said, teeth yellow and face cruel. ‘Or we’ll kill all of you.’

‘Alright, there’s no need to do anything drastic,’ Hakim said, tucking an arm protectively around his wife. Yaz was grateful Sonya was out with friends and prayed she didn't suddenly decide to come home. 

‘Hurry up!’ a second man shouted as the five of them patted down their pockets and threw phones and wallets towards the burglars. All except the Doctor, who stayed still with her arms out either side of her keeping Yaz and Ryan behind her. With the Doctor partially blocking their view, Yaz was able to unclip her Nani’s necklace from around her neck and slip it into her pocket. 

‘And you,’ one of the men growled at the Doctor.

‘I don’t carry valuables on me,’ the Doctor replied. ‘And I never have any money. Just ask this lot, they’re always having to buy me stuff.’ 

‘What about that on your wrist?’ one of the men asked, and the Doctor hesitated. 

‘This? Cheap bit of metal. I got it cause I thought it looks pretty. It’s not worth anything.’ 

But the men had noticed her hesitation and one of them leered at her. 

‘If it’s so cheap you won’t mind handing it over.’ 

It was clearly not cheap. The metal looked like it was real gold and Graham could tell the Doctor was reluctant to part with it. She glanced at it again and, for a split second, Graham was sure one of the circular markings  _ moved.  _ In fact, the more he looked, they were  _ all  _ moving in a slow circle around a central point, marked with another circular shape. 

It almost looked like a countdown…

The Doctor shook her head. 

‘Sorry, I can’t. I  _ would,  _ I honestly hate wearing it, but I haven’t got enough time.’

Graham and Ryan exchanged a look, thoroughly confused. 

‘Not enough time?’ Ryan whispered. ‘What’s that meant to mean.’

‘I’m sorry,’ the Doctor said, looking back at them with a broken expression. ‘I am. This wasn’t the trigger. Last time it was Yaz’s necklace, but the consequence is going to be the same and it needs to happen.’ 

_ ‘Last time?’  _ Graham said, eyes wide. ‘What are you on about? What do you mean  _ last time?’ _

‘Wait…’ Realisation was slowly beginning to dawn on Yaz. The hair, the scar, her behaviour. This wasn’t their Doctor, or it was, but it also  _ wasn’t. _

‘It’s okay,’ the Doctor urged her. ‘It is. I swear. I’ve got this. Just please, forgive me? Forgive  _ her _ ? I deadlocked the door to get up the stairs but she’s gonna get it open eventually and she’s gonna be so confused.’ She looked desperate, almost like a frightened animal trapped in a corner, and Yaz felt a ball of anxiety drop into her stomach. Whatever was about to happen was doing to be  _ bad.  _

‘Forgive her? Who’s her? Who’s coming?’ Graham looked beyond confused at this point.

‘Doctor, you’re scaring me,’ Yaz said, face crumpled. ‘What’s happening? Are you - are you -’ She felt silly even saying it, though it was the only solution to the Doctor's odd behaviour that she could think of. ‘Are you from the  _ future?’ _

‘What on earth is that supposed to mean?’ Hakim said. ‘How can she be from the future? Time travel isn’t real.’ 

‘This is taking too long,’ one of the men growled. ‘Give me that.’

He lunged forwards, grabbing the Doctor's wrist as he tried to wrench the cuff off her arm. 

Then everything started to happen in slow motion, at least to Graham’s eyes.

The Doctor stumbled forwards, the cuff refusing to come off her arm. She tripped over the coffee table and crashed to the floor; the man who’d been trying to remove her bracelet falling with her and smacking his head hard against the edge of the table. 

Ryan then ran forwards, seeing a chance to apprehend the second man who stood in the middle of the room with the knife in his hand, unsure of what to do. The third man had run out of the flat and Ryan smacked into the second man but didn't knock him over. They stumbled together instead, Ryan tripping over his feet and falling forward. The knife flashed through the air as the second man got his arm free, but then Yaz was sprinting and crashing into the two of them, separating the two men and sending Ryan crashing to the ground. The second man was free and he reached for Yaz as she stumbled, the knife glinting in his hand.

_ Bang! _

The noise was loud, sudden and disorientating, and Graham pressed his hands against his ears as they began to ring. He couldn’t tell what had caused it. It had sounded like a firework, or the world’s largest balloon popping, but his mind hadn’t quite caught up yet. There was nothing he could see in the room that would have caused it, but it hadn’t half sounded like a - 

The man fell, blood seeping across the front of his chest, and all was quiet. 

Graham turned, and the gun dropped from the Doctor's hand. 

‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered, though Graham saw nothing in relief in her eyes. She was looking at Yaz and the cuff on her wrist was glowing now, positively vibrating against her skin.

‘What have you done?’ Yaz whispered. 

‘I couldn’t let you die,’ the Doctor mumbled; then the cuff beeped and she exploded into golden dust. 

Everything was still. 

Yaz stood by the window, panting heavily, a hand reached out towards where the Doctor had been stood only moments before. 

Ryan picked himself up from the floor, shuffling away from the body bleeding into the rug.

Najia and Hakim had been holding each other in the kitchen but now they ran towards their daughter, hugging her tightly. 

Graham bent down and picked up the cuff but it was cold and dull in his hands. There was no sign of the Doctor. She’d vanished into the air around them. 

The door crashed open.

‘What’s going on I heard a gunshot are you guys okay??!!’

_ I deadlocked the door to get up the stairs but she’s gonna get it open eventually and she’s gonna be so confused. _

The Doctor froze in the doorway, hair short, eyes bright, cheek unmarked. She was staring down at the body on the floor then her eyes snapped up to Yaz’s, cradled in her parents’ arms. She looked concerned but when she looked to Graham and Ryan there was nothing they could do, no solace they could offer her. Her future self had just murdered someone in cold blood, what was there to possibly say?

Then the Doctor noticed the cuff in Graham’s hands and her eyes hardened.

‘Graham,’ she said quietly. ‘Where did you get that?’

* * *

‘She won’t answer the door,’ Yaz said, coat wrapped around her shoulders as she shivered outside the TARDIS. It wasn’t the same TARDIS they’d all left earlier, or at least Graham didn't think it was, it had moved at least 5 feet to the right. There was no sign of the previous TARDIS and Graham suspected it had exploded in the same way the Doctor had. The future Doctor, anyway. 

‘Doc, come on. It’s baltic out here,’ he called, knocking on the wood. 

There was no reply and Ryan tried the handle again, as though he hadn’t done that hundreds of times already. 

‘We’re not mad!’ he called through the wood. ‘Just really confused. And also worried about you. Can you open the door?’

They’d had to explain to her what had happened, as soon as she’d seen the cuff in Graham’s hands she’d known already, but they hadn’t expected her reaction when they’d told their story. It was as though all the blood had suddenly drained from her face as she’d turned grey and stumbled back, almost falling over her feet as she’d hit the back of the wall; green eyes fixed on the dead body on the floor. Yaz had tried to talk to her, tried to take her hand and hold her, but she’d ran back to the TARDIS and here they were, three hours later, trying to convince her to let them in. 

‘Doctor,’ Yaz whispered against the wood. ‘Please let me in.’ 

But there was still no response.

‘Look, Doc, we’re not hanging around out here,’ Graham said, shivering in his coat. ‘It’s freezing. You wanna come talk to us, and I’m assuming you do considering you haven’t taken off yet, then we’ll be at my house with a cup of tea waiting for you. Alright?’

But the doors stayed closed and Graham shrugged at the other two. Yaz looked crestfallen but equally she couldn’t imagine what the Doctor was going through. A woman who abhorred violence, who’d never held a weapon to anyone, and who’d just found out she’d murdered someone. 

Yaz couldn’t get the future Doctor’s expression out of her face though, that soft face full of relief as the gun had fallen from her hands. She’d been a shaking wreck up until that point but once the deed was done it was as though her worries had just fallen away- perhaps it was because she’d known she wouldn’t be around to live with her guilt? Though where she’d gone was anyone’s guess. 

_ I couldn’t let you die. _

The Doctor had told Yaz about paradoxes, about the repercussions of changing the past.  _ We can’t have a universe with no Yaz.  _ That’s what she’d told her in the Punjab. She’d obviously meant it, though Yaz hadn’t realised until that moment how far she’d been willing to go. 

‘Did I die?’ Yaz whispered quietly to the TARDIS. ‘In that other timeline, did that man kill me? Is that why you shot him?’

There was silence, then the door creaked open.

‘So you  _ are  _ in there,’ Graham said, though his voice was gentle. ‘We were starting to wonder.’

The Doctor's eyes were red rimmed but she stepped aside to let her friends inside, unable to meet their eyes or even look up from the ground. 

‘You gonna talk to us?’ Ryan asked, not unkindly, but the Doctor shook her head; clearly not trusting her voice. She looked as though she was about to have a breakdown in front of them and when Yaz took her hand she didn't pull away. 

‘Come on,’ Yaz said quietly. ‘Let’s go sit.’

She shot Graham and Ryan a look, telling them to stay put as she led the Doctor out of the console room, hand squeezing hers tightly. The Doctor’s hands were shaking, much like her future self had earlier, but Yaz couldn’t smell alcohol on her and she was silent as Yaz led her into her room and sat her down on the bed; unsure of where to begin.

‘I died, didn't I?’ Yaz tried, as gently as she could. ‘In the other timeline, that man stabbed me and I died?’

The Doctor nodded. 

‘And you went back through time and changed history so it didn't happen,’ Yaz continued, trying to get her head around the concept. 

Another nod. 

‘But surely that would have caused a paradox?’ Yaz said. ‘You mentioned those reaper things, when you were telling us about your friend who tried to save her father a while back. Why didn't they turn up?’

‘Because of this,’ the Doctor said, her voice broken as she reached into her pocket and pulled out the cuff. 

Yaz took it out of her hands to examine it properly. It was solid gold and felt heavy. Circular inscriptions were etched into it, though they were no longer moving like they had been earlier. 

_ If it wasn’t for this, I’d be dead,  _ Yaz realised. 

‘It’s called a paradoxical,’ the Doctor explained. ‘It gives you the ability to go back in time and create a paradox but keep it stable. It literally allows you to rewrite history.’

The implication of this smacked into Yaz and she almost dropped the cuff. A device that could  _ rewrite  _ history. Keeping Rosa Parks’ timeline in one piece had been difficult enough, but if you were up against one of these…

‘Where did you get it?’ Yaz whispered, before she realised the Doctor likely wouldn’t know.

‘That’s the only one in existence,’ the Doctor said, fingers clenched in Yaz’s sheets. ‘And it’s kept locked in the vault on my home planet.’

‘So you stole it?’

‘Must’ve done. Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve stolen something dangerous from my own people.’

‘And you did that - to save me?’

The Doctor was silent.

‘Doctor…’ 

Yaz reached out to her and pulled her into a hug, arms sliding across the Doctor's back as she held her. She was full of emotions she couldn’t process, emotions she didn't understand. The Doctor had been clearly traumatised by her death and had obviously tried to live with it for as long as she could, but it was clear that one day it had all got a bit much and she’d decided to take the most drastic action she could think of. 

‘What’s the punishment for stealing something from the vault?’ Yaz whispered into her ear. 

‘Death, without the chance to regenerate,’ the Doctor replied, her voice muffled in Yaz’s shoulder.

Yaz felt tears fall from her eyes, staining the Doctor’s t-shirt as she considered the implications. The Doctor, unable to live with Yaz’s death, had gone to her own planet to steal something - knowing she risked execution if she was caught - and had then saved Yaz and ended up erasing her future timeline as the consequence.

‘It sounds like -’ Yaz’s voice caught and she swallowed hard, clutching the Doctor tightly. ‘It sounds like a suicide mission.’

The Doctor was silent but when Yaz pulled away from her she realised she was crying, face wretched and hands shaking. Yaz took them and held them tightly, her heart pounding against her chest. The Doctor - the  _ future  _ Doctor - had killed herself to save Yaz. 

But there was something else that had been bothering Yaz which she was only just considering. The future Doctor had had to lock her past self downstairs, deadbolting the door to buy her more time. Why? Why had she done that? The Doctor had appeared in the flat only seconds after her future self had shot the burglar.

And something else. The Doctor had pushed Yaz out of the way before the door had even opened because she’d  _ known when they were going to turn up. _

‘You were there,’ Yaz realised. ‘In the other timeline, the one where I died. You were with me. You watched me die.’

‘I’m sorry, Yaz,’ the Doctor whispered, her voice and expression so broken that Yaz wanted to hold her and never let go. This was a woman who had proved, irrevocably and without a doubt, that she loved her. She’d gone against her rules, her morals. She’d done the one thing she’d always told the others to never do because it would change them past the point of no return.

She’d killed another person.

‘Why are you sorry?’ Yaz replied, pulling the Doctor forward so her face was tucked just under her chin. ‘You saved my life.’

‘You watched me kill someone,’ the Doctor replied, and Yaz could feel the Doctor's tears wet against her neck. ‘You know now what I’m capable of.’

‘You were desperate,’ Yaz replied soothingly, stroking the Doctor's head in the same way you’d soothe an upset child. 

‘I was an idiot,’ the Doctor replied angrily, though Yaz knew she was only angry with herself. ‘We  _ don’t  _ pick and choose what moments in time suit us. We  _ don’t  _ interfere with history.  _ No-one  _ should have that power.’

She shouted the last sentence, ripping herself away from Yaz and pressing her face into her hands, and when Yaz’s bedroom door opened and Graham and Ryan stepped in Yaz realised they’d been eavesdropping this whole time. Both men were crying and Graham sat next to the Doctor on the bed, a hand above her shoulder, though he didn't touch her. 

‘I love Yaz like she were my own granddaughter,’ Graham told her gently. ‘And you saved her, Doc. And that’s not a reflection on you. That says nothing about your character. It only says that you missed your friend, and there’s nothing wrong with that.’

‘Losing Yaz had broken you,’ Ryan chimed in, sitting beside Yaz and placing his hand next to the Doctor's. ‘And yeah, you’re right. No-one should have the power to change time. Not even Time Lords. But you abused that power to save Yaz and honestly? I’m not gonna be mad at you about that.’

‘I can’t save Grace,’ the Doctor mumbled into her hands, and Yaz realised that was likely what both Ryan and Graham had been thinking of. ‘It’s too late. The amount of history that would be destroyed, the good we’ve done, it would punch a hole in the universe even with the paradoxical.’

‘Grace is resting and I’m gonna see her eventually,’ Graham said, and when he put a hand on the Doctor’s back she didn't pull away. ‘She can stay where she is, but whatever it was losing Yaz did to you was far worse than what losing Grace did to me and Ryan. We have no idea what happened, we’ll likely never know, but we don’t blame you for saving Yaz and we’re not angry at you. And neither are the Khans. Confused, yes. But not angry.’ 

‘You asked us to forgive you,’ Ryan said softly, reaching out to take her hand. ‘The future you, I mean. Well this is us forgiving you.’ 

The Doctor looked at her friends, her fam, and saw nothing but love in their eyes; despite what she’d done. 

‘You - you really mean that?’ she said, face scronched in confusion. 

‘Of course we do,’ Yaz told her softly. ‘You saved my life, remember?’

‘Speaking of,’ Graham said, clearing his throat awkwardly. ‘I feel like that’s something else we need to address, since we’re all here. Yaz, that guy was gonna kill you. That guy  _ did  _ kill you. I mean - I’m not really sure how to even go about this but - how do you feel about that?’

‘I don’t feel it,’ Yaz said, and she realised the Doctor was looking at her carefully. ‘I didn't die, and even if I did in another timeline I reckon I’ve done enough on this planet to earn me a spot in Jannah.’

The Doctor smiled at her. 

‘It is a bit weird,’ Yaz admitted. ‘Knowing that there’s another timeline where today would have been -’ Her voice faltered and the Doctor scooted a little closer. ‘- where today would have been the date of my death,’ she finished quietly. ‘But honestly, I could be hit by a bus tomorrow. So what’s the point in even worrying about it?’

‘I agree. The amount of times a box has almost fallen on me at work,’ Ryan chimed in, and Graham looked annoyed. 

‘Don’t tell me that! I’m gonna be worried every time you leave the house now! You must be doing alright though, Doc. Traveling around time and space I mean. I know your real age is somewhat of a mystery but you don’t look a day over 35.’

‘Ah, actually my track record with dying isn’t amazing,’ the Doctor admitted sheepishly. ‘My people, this whole regeneration thing we have going on, that only happens if we receive a mortal injury.’

The three humans stared at her. 

‘And how many times  _ have  _ you received a mortal injury?’ Yaz said slowly, eyebrow raised. 

‘Um, about 14? I think?’

‘You’ve _almost died_ _14 times,’_ Ryan spluttered. 

‘Strictly speaking I  _ have  _ died 14 times,’ the Doctor corrected him. ‘I think. There was a bit of confusion with a Dalek and a spare hand. Maybe it’s 15.’

‘Don’t go higher,’ Graham protested. ‘Jeez, Doc! We’re gonna have to wrap you in bubble wrap every time we leave the TARDIS!’

‘Even that isn’t safe any more,’ Ryan pointed out, remembering the Kerblam incident. 

Yaz smiled at the Doctor, though she felt like she needed to have a serious discussion with her about wearing protective armour for all future adventures. 14 or 15 times was too many. 

‘We’d better go make sure my parents are okay,’ Yaz realised. ‘We were so worried about you we sort of ran out of the flat a little bit.’

‘Do you want me to come too? To explain?’ the Doctor asked, though Yaz could tell she didn't really want to face the Khan’s after they’d seen her shoot someone.

‘I’m not letting you out of my sight, Doc,’ Graham told her, deciding for her. ‘Especially now I know how bleedin’ accident prone you are.’

‘How much do your parents know?’ Ryan asked.

‘I think they suspect,’ Yaz said, thinking carefully. ‘But this’ll be the first time I’m really open with them about it. I’m not sure how they’re going to react, to be honest.’

‘Don’t ‘spose you can wipe memories can you, Doc?’ Graham said with a chuckle. ‘It would probably be easier, if Yaz wouldn’t object to us mind wiping her parents.’

‘Honestly that would be preferable,’ Yaz admitted. ‘I don’t think I’d have any objections.’

‘Actually…’ 

The Doctor looked guilty and Ryan burst out laughing.

‘Sorted. Off to mind wipe Yaz’s parents.’ 

‘Wait, for real?’ Yaz said, eyes wide. ‘All joking aside? Can you wipe people’s memories?’

‘My people are touch telepaths,’ the Doctor explained. ‘So yeah, we can.’ 

‘And you’d do that for my parents?’

‘If you wanted me to.’ 

Yaz looked up at Graham and Ryan, hand wrapped tightly around the Doctor's. 

‘Would you mind giving us a sec?’ she asked, and the two men nodded and left the room; Graham giving the Doctor a parting squeeze on her shoulder as he did so.

‘I’m sorry, Yaz,’ the Doctor said quietly. ‘I was so angry at myself, about what I’d done, I never even considered how you must be feeling.’

‘I feel confused,’ Yaz said honestly. ‘But I think that’s something you can help me clear up.’

The Doctor tilted her head at her, blinking in adorable confusion. 

‘You don’t kill,’ Yaz continued, squeezing the Doctor’s hand when she noticed pain flash across her eyes. ‘But you did for me. You need to tell me why.’

The Doctor shook her head. 

‘I don’t know why, Yaz,’ she said. ‘I can’t figure it out. I don’t know why I saved you when I’ve let so many others die.’

‘Yes you do,’ Yaz insisted. ‘Just tell me. If you ran in and found me dying on the floor, what would you want to tell me? Or what would you regret  _ not  _ telling me?’

‘Please don’t make me picture that,’ the Doctor said, her voice cracking.

‘I have to,’ Yaz begged her, cupping her cheek with one hand. ‘Please. I need to know. What’s so special about me?’

The Doctor looked at her, eyes wide and shining, face flushed. 

‘Everything, Yaz,’ she whispered. ‘Everything is special about you.’

‘Tell me why you saved my life,’ Yaz said, her voice quiet. ‘Please. Please tell me.’

The Doctor fidgeted, hands twisting in her lap. She looked up at Yaz through the fringe of her hair, tears trickling from the corners of her eyes. 

Then she kissed her.

Yaz’s hands immediately wrapped into her hair as she pulled her close, practically climbing into her lap as a warm tongue pushed past her lips and began to thoroughly explore the inside of her mouth. The Doctor tasted like salt from her tears but Yaz couldn’t get enough. She wrapped her hands in the Doctor's hair, pulling her impossibly closer, begging her for more until they were both breathless and panting as they pulled away, clinging to each other as their chests heaved and hearts pounded. 

‘That’s why,’ the Doctor said, forehead pressed against Yaz’s. ‘That’s why I saved you.’

‘You love me?’ Yaz whispered, lips pressing against the Doctor's cheek. 

‘Of course I do,’ the Doctor said, clinging to her. ‘But I shouldn’t have - that’s not a reason to -’

‘No-one would blame you,’ Yaz said softly. ‘No-one at all. They’d understand.’

‘Of course they would. That’s why no-one should have that power,’ the Doctor mumbled, still with one hand tightly clasped in Yaz’s as she looked down at the Paradoxical in her lap. 

‘What are you going to do with it? Take it back?’ Yaz suggested, and the Doctor shook her head. 

‘No. Best not. I need you to hide it for me.’

‘Hide it?’

Yaz’s eyes widened and she carefully lifted up the golden cuff. It was heavy in her hand, almost thrumming with power though the symbols that had been displayed on it earlier were gone, and again the implications of what a device this powerful could do slammed into her. 

‘Take it deep into the TARDIS, she’ll know where,’ the Doctor said, closing Yaz’s fingers around it. ‘And don’t ever let me near it ever again.’

‘But if this could be used to save lives…’

‘ _ No.’ _

The Doctor's voice was firm, though her eyes were brimming with tears, and Yaz noticed she looked pale and unwell. A hand pressed against her forehead confirmed her high temperature and the Doctor leaned into her cool touch, closing her eyes as she sagged against Yaz.

‘It creates ripples, using something like that,’ the Doctor mumbled into Yaz’s shoulder. ‘I’m sensitive to them. If it creates too many eventually time fractures and - well, no-one wants that.’

‘You’re burning up,’ Yaz said, brushing sweaty hair away from her forehead. 

‘It’ll pass,’ the Doctor sighed, curling an arm around Yaz. ‘Please, hide it, Yaz. Keep it away from me.’

‘But why?’ Yaz asked. ‘If you know the consequences…’

‘I knew them before, but it didn't stop me saving you,’ the Doctor said, meeting her gaze, and Yaz saw the resolve in her fever-filled eyes. 

‘Alright,’ she murmured, tucking the cuff into her pocket. ‘But not before you get some rest, come on. In.’

She pulled back the sheets and, to her utmost surprise, the Doctor simply dropped down into them like a sack of stones, closing her eyes immediately and shivering under her coat. 

‘Get some sleep,’ Yaz said gently, pulling the duvet up to her chin and tucking the pillow carefully under her head. 

‘Do you still want me to mind wipe your parents?’

‘Let me think about it,’ Yaz said with a sigh. ‘Maybe I’ll be able to explain things to them. Not sure how though.’

‘Be honest,’ the Doctor said through the side of her mouth, clearly fighting against the pull of sleep. ‘That’s all they’ll want.’

‘Is the truth really want they’ll want to hear?’ 

‘Better than a lie,’ the Doctor mumbled, face going slack. ‘Parents only ever want to hear the truth from their children.’

‘Is that from experience?’ Yaz whispered, but the Doctor was asleep and didn't hear her. 

She stood up from the bed carefully, checking the Doctor was calm before she left the room and pulled the door gently shut. The cuff was heavy in her pocket and she pulled it out to look at it again. All of time and space in one chunky bracelet. The things she could do with something like this, the people she could save…

She shivered and shoved it back into her pocket. The Doctor was right. No-one should have that power. 

She set off down the sloping TARDIS corridors, trusting the ship to show her the way. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look I've had this in my drafts for MONTHS (as you can tell cause clearly the Timeless Children hadn't aired when I wrote it) and I was stuck on the ending then I just had enough and decided to post it so *shrug emoji*


	16. so if you love me why'd you let me go?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy pride <3 <3
> 
> Chapter title is 'Violet Hill' by Coldplay

It had been the kind of day that had Yaz longing for her bed, except they weren’t anywhere near the TARDIS or her flat in Sheffield and the Doctor was hurt so her bed, or indeed a decent night's sleep, seemed a long way off. 

Yaz warmed her hands by the fire, pulling the poker out of its metal prison and tending the flames as best she could. She’d never been a good girl guide and had stopped going once Izzy had gotten her teeth into her, nearly all of her cronies were in Yaz’s group, but she could practically hear the Doctor’s teeth chattering in the otherwise still quiet of the room and wanted to do something. The alternative was sitting there watching the Doctor get worse and, whilst that seemed inevitable at this point, at least this made her feel as though she was being useful. 

‘That’s the last of them,’ Graham’s quiet voice said from behind her. Yaz put another log on the fire, waited until it was alight, and then turned around. 

The Doctor was bundled in as many blankets as they’d been able to find, swaddled in them so tightly that only her head was visible. It didn't seem to be making a difference though, she was still shivering as violently as she had been before and she was now completely unconscious, her rasping breaths loud in Yaz’s ears. Ryan’s arm moved underneath all the covers and Yaz realised he was holding her hand. 

‘Now what?’ Ryan asked, looking at them helplessly, but Yaz didn't have an answer for him. 

‘I’ve checked downstairs, there’s no medic anywhere,’ Graham said. ‘Funny thing is though, one second I could understand them and the next? Nada. It was like they were talking in chirps or something.’ 

‘Chirps?’ Yaz asked, a frown line creasing her face. As per usual, the TARDIS translated everything that had been said in the little inn they were staying in and Yaz had understood every word perfectly. The interior of the inn was like an old Earth pub, but the purple sun that had set the sky on fire with dark pink rays as it had set was as far from Earth as it was possible to be. 

‘Yeah, and they couldn’t understand me either,’ Graham said, shaking his head sadly. ‘I got as far as “there’s no doctors here but you could try the -” before the barkeep descended into this weird noise, like birds whistling. I tried to ask what he was on about but he just looked at me blankly.’

‘Maybe it’s the TARDIS?’ Ryan wondered. ‘The Doctor's forever fixing stuff. Maybe the translation stuff stopped working?’

‘I don’t think that’s the reason,’ Yaz said quietly, eyeing the grey tone of the Doctor's skin. 

Graham and Ryan caught her meaning, and they were silent. 

‘So what do we do?’ Ryan asked after a while. ‘It’s pouring rain out there, do we try and find help?’

‘I don’t think we’ll be able to, they’ve shut the port cause of the storm,’ Graham said. ‘I heard them talking about it downstairs, before I stopped being able to understand them that is. They don’t reckon the coastal wall will hold so it's a mandatory curfew until the morning.’

A flash of lightning lit up the room for a moment, bright and electric against the black sky, and thunder rolled over their heads like a drum. 

The Doctor mumbled something in her sleep, but when Ryan leaned down to her he couldn’t make out a word. 

‘TARDIS?’ Ryan asked, but Yaz shook her head. 

‘It’s too far away,’ she said. ‘We’ll never make it.’

‘We need to have a word for her about leaving it parked so far away every time we go anywhere.’ Graham chuckled. ‘This is like that Vila all over again.’

‘It didn't help that the Doctor fell in that lake,’ Ryan reminded him, and Yaz smiled in spite of herself. 

They were staying in a small port on the edges of the Grengor System. Well, the Doctor had said it was small but Yaz thought it was humongous. It reminded her of the Port of Dover, all those ships lined up neatly waiting to set sail. Her parents had taken her and Sonya on a few trips to France during the summer holidays and the trip on the ferry was always her favourite part. They would go overnight and Yaz loved to head out onto the deck and watch the waves churn up behind them and the stars shining so brightly in the night sky.

These ships were nothing like the P&O ferry, however. They were of all shapes and sizes and as Yaz pulled back the curtain she saw them rocking madly in the harbour, waves rising up and crashing down against the coastal wall. A few more feet and the waves would be over it and flooding the village. 

There was a knock on the door and a maid peered around it, balancing another armful of blankets which she handed to Graham. 

She asked him something and Yaz saw what he meant about the whistles. She’d been talking to the maid only a few hours previously but now she couldn’t understand a word. 

‘Thanks, love,’ Graham said, already unfurling another blanket to tuck around the Doctor's shoulders. 

The maid, realising she wasn’t going to get an answer from any of them, pressed the back of her hand against the Doctor's forehead and shook her head sadly. She bowed neatly to them before turning and leaving the room, closing the door softly behind her. 

‘Well, that didn't exactly fill me with confidence,’ Graham muttered. 

Yaz sat beside the Doctor on the bed, stroking sweaty hair away from her friend’s face. She felt the burning of the Doctor's skin against her own and felt the shaking of her body under all the blankets. 

The fire crackled and Ryan stood up to put another log on it, sitting down heavily next to Yaz when he was done. He reached under the blankets for the Doctor's arm, pulling it free and inspecting the bite mark on her skin. It was black and dark tendrils were emanating up her arm, thick and pulsing under her pale skin. He squeezed the Doctor's hand but didn't let go, holding onto it instead as though he could comfort his friend through touch alone, though Yaz very much doubted the Doctor had any idea what was going on around her. At least she’d stopped crying out in pain and was silent, though her breathing didn't seem to be getting any better and Yaz could see her chest heaving as though she wasn’t getting enough air into her lungs. 

Yaz carefully lifted the Doctor's head onto her lap, leaning back against the headboard and stroking her hair gently. Thunder boomed again but Yaz paid it no attention, coiling strands of blonde around her fingers before letting them fall again. The Doctor’s body gave a jolt and she let out a quiet moan before falling still once more. Graham wiped his eyes. 

‘Breaks my heart to see her like this,’ he said, his voice thick and heavy. ‘At least when she had that flu thing she was still talking and complaining.’

‘Loudly,’ Ryan said, remembering. ‘It was driving you mental at the time.’

‘At least if she were complaining now I’d know she was alright,’ Graham said. ‘This just ain’t right, her being still.’ 

The Doctor pressed her head against Yaz’s thigh, body curling into a ball as she let out a whimper. Ryan squeezed her hand again.

‘What do we do if… you know,’ he asked. 

‘We’ll cross that bridge if we come to it, but I don’t reckon we will,’ Graham said, shaking his head. ‘She’ll pull through. She’ll be fine.’

‘Or she’ll regenerate,’ Yaz said quietly, but Ryan and Graham had no response to that. 

* * *

Yaz woke up in the dark and immediately tried to sit upright, only for a hand to push her back down onto the bed. 

‘Hold on, I’m almost done,’ someone said. Someone who was  _ not  _ Graham or Ryan.

‘Wha - what’s happening? Who are you? Where’s the Doctor?’ Yaz mumbled, trying to sit up again. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep, she’d wanted to stay awake and look after her friend, but exhaustion had tugged her down and the quiet snores from either side of her indicated that Ryan and Graham had gone a similar way. 

‘It’s alright, she’s here,’ the voice said again. It was a woman’s voice and as Yaz’s eyes acclimated to the gloom she saw a head with thick black hair bending over her. It was then she realised the Doctor was wrapped up in her arms with her face pressed against her neck. 

She’d also stopped moving and her body was completely slack.

‘Doctor?!’ Yaz yelped, throwing herself upright and pulling the Doctor up with her. Besides her, Graham and Ryan jumped awake, arms flailing, and their visitor ducked to avoid a stray arm to the face. 

‘Who are you?’ Graham asked, eyes wide and body tense as he tried to decide whether or not to push this strange woman away from them.

‘I’m Bill. I’m a friend,’ the woman replied earnestly. ‘It’s alright, the Doctor's fine. I was just getting the venom out.’

‘Bill? Venom?’ Ryan said. 

‘You’re… human,’ Yaz realised, taking in Bill’s dark trousers and denim jacket. 

‘Yeah, sort of,’ Bill replied. ‘I mean I was. I’m not anymore. Well I kind of am… honestly it’s hard to explain.’

‘Wait, is she…?’

But the words died in Graham’s throat when he realised the Doctor was finally peaceful. Colour had returned to her cheeks and she’d stopped shaking. Her face was slack, mouth slightly open, and her breathing was quiet and gentle. 

‘She’s gonna be fine,’ Bill said reassuringly. ‘She’s just sleeping now.’

Ryan reached for the Doctor's arm. Where once black tendrils had snaked up her skin, now there was only pale skin and a tiny plaster over the puncture wounds.

‘What was it that bit her? Looked nasty,’ Bill said. 

‘It was a snake,’ Yaz said, voice quiet in disbelief. ‘Someone was transporting it but it escaped from its crate, started trying to suffocate this kid. The Doctor got it off them but it bit her.’

‘Yeah, that sounds like the Doctor,’ Bill chuckled.

‘You know her?’ Ryan asked. 

‘Sort of. I knew  _ him.’ _

‘Hang on, you knew the Doc when she was a bloke?’ Graham asked, incredulous.

‘Has she never talked about it?’ Bill asked. 

‘She kind of mentions it every now and then but it’s hard to believe,’ Ryan said. ‘I mean look at her. She’s so… blonde.’

Bill laughed. ‘Yeah, my Doctor wasn’t blonde. Here.’

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a polaroid, pressing it into Ryan’s hand. It showed an image of her and a man, grey haired and frowning.

‘He hated having his picture taken,’ Bill chuckled. ‘I felt like this photo really encapsulated his spirit though, you know?’

‘Wait,  _ that’s  _ the Doctor?’ Graham asked, jaw hitting the ground. ‘Seriously?’

‘Yep,’ Bill smiled. ‘You can almost see the Scottish, right? Do you know how far in front she is?’ She nodded at the Doctor who was frowning, hand clutching Yaz’s arm tightly, eyes flickering beneath their lids. 

‘Just after I think,’ Yaz said quietly, remembering their first conversation on the train all those months ago. Or was it years now? She couldn’t keep track of time, which was ironic considering the circumstances. 

‘I can’t believe I missed out on  _ this  _ Doctor,’ Bill huffed in mock annoyance. ‘She’s gorgeous!’

‘You should stay,’ Ryan said. ‘I bet she’d be glad to see you again.’

Bill shook her head sadly. ‘No. I better not. I don’t think it’ll be good for either of us.’

The Doctor rolled onto her back, hair falling into her face, toes curling and uncurling as she mumbled to herself. 

‘Speaking of, I think that’s my cue,’ Bill said. 

She stood, then reached down and stroked the Doctor's cheek so tenderly Yaz felt tears welling up behind her eyelids. 

‘Is she okay?’ Bill asked quietly. ‘She’s not great with her feelings. I’m sure you lot have noticed.’

‘That’s putting it lightly,’ Graham chuckled. 

‘She’s getting better,’ Yaz said. ‘Still some work to do, but better.’

Bill nodded, as though that was what she was expecting to hear. She bent down and kissed the Doctor's forehead softly, then straightened up and headed for the door.

‘Don’t tell her I was here,’ she said, one hand on the doorknob as she turned back to look at them. ‘Please. It’ll hurt her too much.’

Graham nodded and Bill smiled. 

‘I’m glad she’s got you three looking after her. Have you met Missy, by the way?’

Blank expressions looked her way and Bill grinned. 

‘Fingers crossed it stays that way.’

Then she turned and left.

‘Puddles,’ the Doctor said, and when Yaz looked down at her her eyes were wide open and fixed on her face.

‘Eh?’ Graham asked.

‘Puddles,’ the Doctor repeated, forehead scrunching. ‘I were dreaming about puddles. Oh, are we having a cuddle?’

Yaz realised she was squeezing the Doctor so tightly her knuckles were white and she let go, looking at the other two as the Doctor extracted herself from the piles of blankets she was still buried under. 

‘Ow,’ she muttered, turning over her forearm and frowning at the dressing neatly stuck over the snake bite. ‘Hang on, weren’t that a zerat serpent?’ She looked at the faces of her three friends, eyes deep with suspicion. ‘How am I still alive?’

‘Luck?’ Graham suggested.

‘It ain’t luck,’ the Doctor countered, shaking her head. ‘You don’t get bitten by one of them and survive by luck. Also, where are we?’

‘Pub,’ Ryan said. ‘We dragged you in here after you - uh, lost consciousness.’

‘Because I was dying,’ the Doctor said. She said it so matter of factly Yaz wanted to slap her.

‘Apparently not,’ Graham said cheerily. ‘Oh, looks like the sun’s coming up.’ 

Yaz climbed off the bed and headed to the window. The purple sun was casting deep blue rays up into the now clear sky, and the waves were finally calm. 

‘Looks like the harbour is still in one piece,’ Yaz said. ‘The storm must have blown over in the night.’

‘What storm? How long have I been asleep for??’ 

The Doctor sounded annoyed, and also a little upset. Yaz wasn’t surprised, she knew her friend loved a good storm. 

There was another knock on the door and the maid reappeared with a tray of breakfast. When she saw the Doctor sitting up she almost dropped it in shock.

‘You’re - you’re alive!’

‘See,  _ she  _ gets it,’ the Doctor said, gesturing at the maid as though she was trying to make her point. Ryan wasn’t sure what that point was, the fact she was supposed to be dead by now?

‘Yeah, she pulled through after all,’ Graham chuckled. 

‘And we can understand each other again,’ the maid said in surprise. 

The Doctor’s forehead furrowed and Yaz sat beside her, rubbing her thumb across the Doctor's knuckles reassuringly. 

‘Don’t be so annoyed to still be alive,’ Yaz teased her. ‘Although it was touch and go for a while.’

The maid set the tray down and pressed a cup of what smelt like some  _ very  _ strong coffee into the Doctor's hands. 

‘Well I’m glad you’re okay,’ the maid said. ‘You looked awful.’ 

‘Hey, don’t cry, Doc,’ Graham said, grabbing a napkin off the tray and handing it to her. ‘You’re alright now, love.’

‘I’m not crying,’ the Doctor said, confused, and Yaz carefully brushed away a tear from her cheek, holding it up to her. 

The Doctor pressed a hand to her face, felt the wet there. 

Her face fell. 

‘They’re not my tears,’ she whispered. 

  
  
  
  
  
  



	17. sharp of mind she's one of a kind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor meets Anne Lister.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from 'Gentleman Jack' by O'Hooley and Tidow, of course. 
> 
> This is set sometime after Praxeus.

Graham hadn’t really had any expectations about what an 19th century lesbian was supposed to act like. He supposed she couldn’t be particularly flamboyant or ‘out there’, considering the period she’d been born in, but likewise he hadn’t been expecting this stern looking woman in heavy black fabric and a harsh uptight hair-do. She reminded him a little of the Doc, at least as far as her confidence or determination went, but he didn't really want to get into that right now. 

‘Curious name,’ Anne Lister was saying, lifting Yaz’s hand to her mouth to kiss lightly. ‘Where are you from, South Asia? It’s on my list to travel to, next year hopefully. I would love to see the Himalayas up close and in person.’ 

‘Actually I’m from Sheffield,’ Yaz corrected her. ‘But I do have family from Punjab, my Nani lived in Lahore briefly too.’

‘The stories she must have told you,’ Anne said with a broad smile. ‘I would love to hear them. Please, sit. I’ll have some tea brought in.’

Graham tried to catch the Doc’s eye, but she was busy peering at the maps hung on the wall. They were impressive things, large and covered in x’s or circles. Anne saw her looking.

‘The x’s are where I’ve been, the circles are where I’m planning on going,’ she said proudly. ‘There is a woman who lives not far from here I’m hoping to travel with, her health and my aunt’s permitting of course. My aunt is resting currently, but you simply must say hello to her when she wakes up she will find you…’ - Anne tilted her head at her curiously, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth - ‘... fascinating.’

‘I try,’ the Doctor agreed with a shrug, modest as always. She tapped the map, and Graham recognised Italy. ‘If you’re going to Rome I recommend travelling there at Easter, the carnival is brilliant.’ 

‘Thank you for the recommendation,’ Anne said, and if Graham caught her sweeping gaze over the Doctor's form then the Doctor must  _ surely  _ have noticed it too. ‘I shall make a note of it.’

Yaz caught Ryan’s eye. Ryan raised both his eyebrows. The Doctor blushed and dived towards the tea tray a servant had just brought in. 

Fortunately the rest of the afternoon passed easily, with Yaz telling Anne all the stories her Nani had told her and the Doctor trying desperately hard to not give away the fact that she was a 2000+ year old alien who travelled in time and space, which seemed to happen everytime Anne asked her a question or pressed her for a response. It was clear Ms Lister was no fool, something the Doctor was obviously already aware of, and if Graham was a betting man - which he was, on occasion - he’d put money on Anne knowing the Doctor wasn’t all that she seemed. 

‘A female doctor as well!’ Anne was saying. ‘How marvellous. Tell me, where did you train? Are you a doctor of medicine or some other such thing. Engineering perhaps? I note the oil smudge on your coat.’ 

The Doctor held up her sleeve in dismay. She’d been elbows deep in the TARDIS console prior to their departure and had clearly missed the mark. 

‘Or maybe music?’ Anne continued, and Graham had to admire her persistence. ‘You certainly have the fingers for the piano.’ 

Yaz choked and Ryan almost spat out his tea. The Doctor looked at the bookcase and pretended not to have heard that last comment, though Graham could see the way her ears had turned scarlet under the scrutiny. 

‘So, which is it?’ Anne pressed. ‘Medicine, engineering, music?’

‘Would you believe all three?’ the Doctor asked. 

Anne leaned back in her chair and gave her an appreciative nod. 

‘Yes, I rather think I would,’ she agreed. ‘Tell me, what do you think about…’

But Graham drowned out the rest of their conversation as the two women descended into animated chatter about medical techniques and musical compositions that were hardly modern in Graham’s time. Sometimes he wondered how the Doctor managed to keep up and avoid saying the wrong thing, or else risk introducing an idea a few decades early. Then he remembered that actually she did that  _ a lot  _ and had to awkwardly correct herself most of the time. 

The evening dragged on and Graham found himself nodding off in the chair. It was cosy in the sitting room, despite the lack of central heating the sound of the crackling fire - not to mention the heat it was emitting - crept into Graham’s bones and made him feel tired. 

‘Anne, your guests are about to fall out of their chairs,’ the voice of Marian, Anne’s sister, came from the doorway. ‘Has she been boring you to sleep?’ she asked Graham conspiratorially. ‘She does that.’ 

‘You should have joined us, Marian,’ Anne admonished her. ‘Who knows, you may even have learnt something.’ 

‘Follow me if you actually want to sleep at some point before dawn,’ Marian said, gesturing to the doorway. ‘We’ve had rooms prepared for you.’

‘Sounds good to me, thanks love,’ Graham said, wincing as his joints clicked when he stood out of the chair. 

‘Join me for a nightcap, Doctor?’ Anne asked quickly. ‘There’s still so much more I want to learn from you.’

‘You guys go ahead,’ the Doctor said, waving at her friends. ‘I’ll see you in the morning.’

‘Don’t stay up all night, Doctor,’ Yaz told her with a grin, and Ryan chortled. 

Alone at last, Anne turned to the Doctor and leaned back in her chair. 

‘So, how does a woman like you end up in this shabby part of the world?’ she asked. ‘You should be lecturing on stages all across the globe, not bundled up here in Halifax.’ 

‘Nothing wrong with Halifax,’ the Doctor said, sniffing the glass of whiskey Anne had just pressed into her hand suspiciously. ‘It’s a beautiful town.’ 

‘Still, it doesn’t seem like a place you truly belong, Doctor,’ Anne pointed out, sipping her drink. 

‘Then where do I belong?’ the Doctor questioned. ‘I’ve certainly got the accent for it.’ 

‘That you do,’ Anne admitted. ‘But also the eyes of someone who’s seen too much of the world to truly be able to fit in anywhere.’

The Doctor’s face fell and Anne leant forward to place a hand on her knee.

‘It’s not a criticism, you understand,’ she urged. ‘I would love to be in your position. To have stories that can be read in my eyes. Your friends are lucky to know you.’

‘I’m not sure about that,’ the Doctor admitted sadly. ‘My friends… well, let’s just say travelling with me can get dangerous.’

‘You’re lonely,’ Anne realised. ‘Even with those three keeping you company. You’re still so lonely.’ 

The Doctor looked down at her lap, at the hand Anne still had resting on her knee.

‘You don’t have to be though,’ Anne said, standing and kneeling in front of her carefully. ‘At least not for tonight, not if you don’t want to be.’

‘What about that woman you’re hoping to travel with?’ the Doctor said, eyebrow raised. 

‘What on earth do you think I’m insinuating, Doctor?’ Anne asked innocently. ‘I was only offering to stay and talk to you a little while longer.’

‘Anne…’ the Doctor whispered quietly, leaning forward a little. 

‘Yes, Doctor?’

‘Your hand is creeping up my thi-IGH!’

She gasped as Anne carefully cupped her over her trousers, before making fast work of the fastening.. 

‘You must tell me where you got these, they are most excellent,’ Anne said, admiring the blue material as she untucked the Doctor's t-shirt and ran a hand up her stomach. 

‘Anne, this is a bad idea,’ the Doctor said, trying hard not to squirm into the other woman’s touch.

‘Actually, I think it’s one of the best I’ve ever had,’ Anne said modestly. ‘And I have a few.’

Then she leant forward to capture the Doctor's mouth with her own, and the Doctor stopped her protest. 

This wasn’t how she’d been planning on spending this particular trip back in time. She’d wanted to speak to Anne sure, to learn from her and admire her but  _ from a distance  _ and certainly not when the aforementioned woman had her hand sneaking underneath the  _ definitely not 19th century material  _ of the Doctor’s underwear. 

But when Anne carefully ran her tongue over the Doctor's teeth, she found herself powerless to say no and instead she let her mouth fall open further, leaning forward to tightly grip Anne’s hair and pull her closer. There was something about this woman that reminded her of River. Her courage, her determination, her enthusiasm and passion for learning and  _ no shut up Doctor don’t go down that route.  _

* * *

Yaz, who’d gone back into the sitting room to retrieve her scarf, abruptly turned and half ran back to her room, pausing at Ryan’s door to press a ten pound note into his hand. 

‘Thank god,’ Ryan muttered, stuffing the note into his pocket. ‘If  _ that  _ doesn’t get her out her mood I don’t know what will.’ 

* * *

‘Perhaps we should move this somewhere else,’ the Doctor suggested, gasping softly at the first sensation of Anne’s fingertips cautiously sliding though her folds. ‘Yaz might come back for her scarf.’

‘I’m pretty sure she already did,’ Anne laughed.

‘Oh f-’ 

Anne cut her off with another kiss, removing her hand and pulling her up by her braces. 

‘Come on then,’ she said with a suggestive smirk. ‘If tonight is all we have we’d best make the most of it.’ 

The Doctor stood, legs wobbling as she allowed Anne to pull her down the corridor and up the stairs to her room. She felt as though she was back at the academy again, sneaking girls into her bedroom late at night when the stewards had gone to bed, and when Anne pulled the door of her room closed then spun her around to kiss her again the Doctor felt her limbs turn to jelly as she leaned gladly into it, concentrating on the sensation of Anne’s tongue in her mouth and her hand between her thigh and oh  _ god  _ had it been a while. 

‘You’re so beautiful,’ Anne murmured. ‘However, whilst I  _ love  _ this outfit, you’re also wearing too many clothes.’

The Doctor lifted her arms, allowing Anne to pull her shirts off of her. Apparently her braces were already undone, when had that happened? Also, where were they? They weren’t attached to her -

A finger traced over her clit and that train of thought went straight out of the Doctor's head. She moaned quietly instead, head dropping against Anne’s shoulder as she moved her hips forward, chasing the sensation.

‘Bed,’ Anne whispered huskily in her ear, and the Doctor quickly tugged apart the fastenings on Anne’s clothes as they stumbled towards it, mouths and teeth clashing against each other hungrily as they moved. 

Once they were both completely bereft of their clothes, Anne pushed the Doctor down on the bed and clambered on top of her, lips attaching to her neck as her fingers moved deftly between her legs. The Doctor moaned and gasped beneath her, chasing the sensations as Anne rode her up higher and higher. She could feel something tight forming in her abdomen, desire flooding through her, and when Anne easily slipped two fingers inside her she almost sobbed at the pleasure of it. The last woman she’d let touch her like this had been - well, Ada Lovelace actually. The Doctor wouldn’t have called it a mistake per se, though it had certainly been unplanned. There was just something about brilliant and intelligent women from history with a passion for science and -

_ Oh god,  _ she thought.  _ I have a type. _

‘Stop thinking, it’s too loud,’ Anne muttered, thrusting more firmly with her fingers as her mouth travelled down the Doctor's chest to suck lightly at her nipple.

The Doctor fisted her hands in the bed sheets and pushed her chest up into Anne’s mouth, whimpering as she felt teeth bite gently at her. She trailed her shaking hand down Anne’s stomach until she found soft curls and warm heat waiting for her, a breathy gasp leaving Anne’s lips as the Doctor moved her fingers gently through sopping wet folds, feeling Anne twitch and moan above her. She really had to stop doing this, she really  _ had  _ to stop going back through time and sleeping with every woman she -

‘Ah!’ 

Anne pressed a hand against her mouth as the Doctor cried out, her inner walls contracting around Anne’s fingers and her chest heaving as her climax slammed into her. Anne continued to thrust lightly into her, thumb rubbing against her clit until the Doctor fell back against the cushions, gazing up at her with lustful and tired eyes.

‘When’s the last time you slept?’ Anne murmured, stroking back unruly blonde hair in a gesture so sweet and gentle the Doctor almost cried at the sensation of it. 

In response, the Doctor forced her exhausted limbs out from underneath Anne and pushed the other woman onto her back, crawling down the bed and burrowing her face between her thighs as her tongue took the place of her fingers. Anne moaned above her, hands fisting in the Doctor's hair, and the Doctor tried as hard as she could to get the image of River doing exactly the same thing out of her head. 

* * *

She awoke to a gentle tap at the door.

The Doctor opened her eyes slowly, feeling a heaviness in her limbs she hadn’t felt in a  _ long  _ time. There was the soft patter of rain against the window and the light shining through the curtain indicated daybreak. 

She blinked blearily, attempting to move but finding herself trapped against Anne’s body. There was an arm around her waist and a nose against her neck and the Doctor closed her eyes again, not willing to give up the sensation just yet. She was no stranger to waking up in awkward places around the TARDIS, usually with a blanket placed over her by one of the fam, but to actually wake up being  _ snuggled… _

‘It’s the maid, I always ask for an early morning wake up call,’ Anne murmured into her skin. ‘But today I think the day can wait a little longer. Did you sleep well?’

‘Yes,’ the Doctor whispered, curling back into Anne’s touch. ‘I did.’

‘Good, I’m glad to hear it,’ Anne said, idly tracing the Doctor's chest. 

She paused, placed a hand over the Doctor’s sternum, then reached for her wrist. 

‘Out of curiosity,’ she said slowly. ‘How many hearts do you have in there, exactly?’

* * *

On the way down to breakfast a few hours later, Yaz noticed the Doctor's braces lying abandoned in the hallway. She quickly picked them up and stuffed them into her pocket. 

When the Doctor did then appear, hair falling forward across her face in an obvious and failed attempt to hide the hickey on her neck, but at least looking well rested and slightly less moody, Yaz snuck them into her hand. 

‘Morning,’ she whispered with a smile in her voice, and the Doctor smiled back. 

Ryan wasn’t so subtle, and kept making suggestive nods at the Doctor all throughout breakfast until she kicked him under the table. Graham didn't want to get involved, but his room had been next door. 


	18. wanna smile, but I think I might cry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from 'I love you you're the worst' by Emily Burns :)

Sparks shot against the Doctor's fingers and she tried to resist the urge to throw the spanner on the floor, swearing loudly in the otherwise silent console room as she stuck her burnt fingertips in her mouth and glowered at the cables.

‘I’m doing this for you,’ she muttered around her fingers. ‘You could at least _try_ and make it easy for me.’

The TARDIS bonged in annoyance, the lights now so low the Doctor was having difficulties seeing an inch in front of her face. A persistent ache was forming in the back of her skull but she ignored it, picking up the spanner again and scronching her face at the mess of wires in front of her. Was it green to blue or green to white? And where did the red come into it?

The TARDIS turned the lights off.

‘Oh for -!’

The Doctor did throw the spanner then and she heard it bounce off of something, clattering noisily to the ground somewhere to the left of her. She pressed her hands against her eyes, head pounding, body aching. The TARDIS hummed sympathetically but she ignored it and took a deep, shuddering breath. It had been a long day and she was still raw from seeing the destruction of her planet, the smoke from the burning buildings still in her lungs and her head full of fire and dust. Her fam questioning where she was from certainly hadn’t helped, though she couldn’t say she blamed them. 

‘Maybe you’re right,’ the Doctor mumbled quietly. ‘Maybe I do need a nap.’

The TARDIS slowly lifted the lights, enough for the Doctor to get shakily to her feet to stumble through the control room to the corridor beyond. Her limbs felt heavy, her head uncomfortable and full of loss, and she didn't bother trying to find her bedroom. The sheets would likely be covered in dust anyway and there were pictures dotted around, memories she didn't want reminding of. Not right now. 

She dropped onto the sofa in her study instead, pulling her coat over her as a blanket. She hadn’t lit the fire for a while and the TARDIS knew better than to do it for her. Flames and smoke was the last thing she wanted to see right now. 

The TARDIS lowered the lights and she tried to sleep, she really did, but everytime she was about to drift off she saw destruction behind her eyelids and drums in her head and Yaz’s terrified face in her eyes and eventually she just gave up, lying on her back and staring up at the ceiling until she heard the humans get up a few hours later, the sound of the kettle boiling and the smell of toast drifting down the corridor rousing her off the sofa to stumble, exhausted, down the corridor whilst the TARDIS hummed in concern and her brain pounded in her skull. 

* * *

Her friends had absolutely noticed she was a bit off. Or, as she’d overheard Ryan saying to Yaz, _two Daleks away from a nervous breakdown._

While she appreciated the somewhat witty analogy, one Dalek was more than enough for a nervous breakdown and she didn't want to see any of them thankyouverymuch. It had gone rather quiet on the Dalek front, and long may it stay that way. 

As for the nervous breakdown part she was pretty sure she was already experiencing one, no matter how hard she tried to hide it from her friends. She was tired, she was grumpy, she’d had a headache for about three consecutive weeks now, and she really wasn’t appreciating the sidewards glances her friends kept shooting her, as though she was about to break like glass. She was fine, it was all fine, everything was going great.

Although there had been that small incident on Orphan 55 where she’d passed out from lack of oxygen and had, according to Graham, been very difficult to wake up. 

She doubted it was the hypoxia that had been the issue either, more the overwhelming need for sleep which had made her so resistant to being shaken awake by three concerned humans. 

Especially when Ryan swore blind she’d been snoring. 

He was the one snoring now and the Doctor was sat cross legged on the floor, shoulders slumped as she stared at the stone wall and her mind burned. The other captives were all asleep, she knew she should be trying to catch forty winks as well, but that would be showing weakness which is something she never did; no matter how exhausted she was. 

The jangle of chains caught her attention and she blinked as Graham appeared next to her, stretching his back against the wall as he tried to get into a comfortable position. There were about thirty people, herself and her fam included, who’d been captured by a villainous band known as the Kurfax and had been locked in their dungeons; the stench of mould and damp pungent in the dimly lit room. She had a plan to get out, but it would need to wait till the morning when their captors unlocked the door.

It was also really gonna hurt, but it was the only option she’d come up with.

‘You can use me as a pillow if you want, Doc,’ Graham said amicably. 

She looked up at him, face scronched.

‘Huh?’

‘Your head,’ Graham said, demonstrating as he dropped his own head down to his chest before snapping it back up again. ‘Keeps doing this. Looks uncomfortable.’

‘Oh.’

She wasn’t sure what else to say to that, she hadn’t noticed her body’s attempt at making her nap, too focused on the plan and the throbbing in her temples. Graham shuffled a little beside her, keeping a respectable distance away, but not too far that she couldn’t rest her head on his shoulder if she so chose. 

She didn't, because that would be showing weakness by admitting she was tired.

Which she wasn’t. 

‘So, how are we getting out of this one?’ Graham asked. ‘Not that I’m pestering or anything, but my bum’s getting a bit sore.’

‘I’ve got a plan, it’ll have to wait till morning though,’ the Doctor said, not even the slightest bit apologetic. Normally she’d try to at least acknowledge that her friends must be uncomfortable, but so was she and you didn't catch her moaning about it.

‘What time is it?’ Graham asked, shaking his arm in an attempt to get his shirtsleeve up above his wrist. ‘I can’t get to my watch.’

‘I don’t know,’ the Doctor said, looking at her boots. 

‘Take a guess? Maybe early morning? 4am?’

‘Could be.’

‘You’re usually spot on with the time of day, Doc.’

_‘I don’t know, alright?’_

It definitely came out harsher, and louder, than she’d intended and in the corner Ryan and Yaz both blinked awake with bleary eyes, their chains jangling as they stretched uncomfortably. She expected Graham to recoil or shoot back something equally rude, but he didn't. He only sat there with a gentle smile.

‘Not to worry, Doc,’ he said softly. ‘Definitely my bedtime, anyway. I’m gonna try and get some sleep. The pillow offer is still there, if you fancy it.’

He settled back against the wall, eyes shut, and the Doctor continued to stare at her boots as guilt clawed at her and her head ached. She existed in a realm above tiredness now, she was now firmly imbedded in the fog of Perpetual Exhaustion, and she felt as though her brain had forgotten how to sleep. 

Yaz crawled across the floor and sat beside her, yawning as she pressed her head against the top of the Doctor's arm and stretched out her legs. 

‘Go to sleep,’ Yaz told her. ‘You’re mardy as hell. It’s annoying.’

You certainly couldn’t fault Yaz for her honesty, that was for sure.

* * *

She jolted awake a few hours later when the door of the cell banged open and she found herself sprawled across Yaz’s lap, head on Yaz’s thighs and chained hands gripping the other woman’s legs tightly. She’d been out of it completely as it took her a good few moments to get her bearings, and when she sat up she realised their jailor had returned and was stood in the doorway, surveying the prisoners as he spoke - or rather clicked - into a communicator clutched in one massive furry paw. 

She spotted her sonic screwdriver tucked into his belt and gritted her teeth in anger. 

‘Go time, Doc?’ Graham whispered to her.

She looked down at her wrists, grateful her legs hadn’t been chained as well, and took a deep breath. 

‘When I say run, _run,’_ she said. 

Then she wrenched her wrists out of the cuffs and dove for her sonic. 

* * *

She was hiding from her fam.

No, that wasn’t quite true, she was hiding from _Yaz._

Graham and Ryan had been shocked - to say the least - that she’d broken both her wrists to get them all free, but Yaz was convinced she’d only done it because she was on a self-destructive exhausted sleep-deprived bender and needed to be forced to sleep. 

She wasn’t hiding very well. She was in her study, sitting in the recess under her desk, knees drawn up to her chest and splinted wrists resting across them. Already her fam had come in here at least four times looking for her, but hadn’t considered she’d be hiding from them under a desk of all places.

Her study was usually strictly off limits to humans, but the TARDIS was being annoying and was siding with them. Traitor. 

Footsteps padded into the room again and she heard Yaz’s exasperated sigh. 

‘Look. We know you’re in here. The TARDIS keeps looping us around and dropping us off here so the game is up, just come out from wherever it is you’ve got yourself squirrelled away.’

Double traitor. 

The Doctor rested her head against the wood of the desk, closing her eyes as she tried to ignore the dull aching pain in her wrists and the steady throb in her head. Headaches didn't usually last for this long, did they? Did she have a brain tumour?

‘Doctor?’

Yaz’s voice was right beside her and the Doctor realised she’d dozed in the ten seconds it had taken for Yaz to realise she was hiding under a desk.

A cool hand pressed against her forehead and the Doctor found herself smiling. She would have to be ill to hide under a desk from her friends. Maybe she did have a brain tumour.

‘You’re feverish,’ Yaz murmured quietly, moving her hand from the Doctor's forehead to her cheek. ‘Are you feeling okay? No, don’t answer that. You’re obviously not. Come on, out from under there.’ 

To her surprise, the Doctor found herself unable to cooperate. Her limbs were heavy, head pounding, wrists aching, and when Yaz tugged on her arm in encouragement she flopped onto her; almost pinning her to the ground as Yaz let out a surprised squeak. 

‘Okay,’ Yaz said softly, patting her arm reassuringly. ‘You’re alright.’

The Doctor closed her eyes, unable to move as exhaustion swept over her like a wave. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept but apparently she’d gone past even the point of maximum Gallifreyan tolerance. She could smell smoke and fire and burning was behind her eyelids but she couldn’t find the energy to open them. She was well overdue a nightmare, it didn't look like she’d be able to hide from this one. 

Dimly, she heard Yaz yelling for Ryan and Graham. 

* * *

When she woke up again she was bundled in blankets, her broken wrists were resting comfortably on her stomach, and her headache had gone. 

‘Well look who’s still alive,’ she heard Graham chuckle as she blinked bleary eyes up at the ceiling.

‘Sixteen hours,’ Ryan announced from somewhere. ‘Not bad.’

‘Sixteen - what?’ 

Her voice felt sore and uncomfortable, aching from unuse and she swallowed and tilted her head towards her friends; all sat on the floor around her. The fire was lit and she turned her head away with a wince, closing her eyes again and pressing her face into the cushions. 

‘That’s how long you were asleep for,’ Yaz said gently, a cool hand pressed against her forehead and sweeping away stray strands of hair. ‘Were you ill or tired?’

‘Both, I’d wager,’ Graham chimed in. 

‘You can make yourself sick from exhaustion can’t you?’ Ryan considered. ‘Sure I read that somewhere.’

‘You should do what I do, Doc,’ Graham said amicably. ‘Cup of hot milk before bed and I’m snoring like a baby.’

‘Do people still do that?’ Ryan chortled. ‘I thought that was only a thing in movies.’

‘Oi! I’ll have you know it’s both comforting and delicious,’ Graham countered, and Ryan laughed.

‘Delicious? Hot milk?!’

‘Ssh, you two,’ Yaz scolded them. ‘Let her rest.’

‘You can’t be serious,’ Graham said, and she could _hear_ his incredulous look. ‘She can’t seriously be going back to sleep aga-’

* * *

When she woke up, she was alone and the fire had long since burnt out. The room was still warm and cosy though, and she realised little table lamps had been brought in and spread out sporadically around the room to give it a soft, glowing effect. She felt warm and content and when she rolled carefully onto her side she found Yaz sitting on the floor with a book in her lap, smiling up at her. 

‘Hey,’ Yaz said softly. ‘I kicked the boys out, they were making too much noise. Plus I think Ryan was about to start playing buckaroo on you.’

The Doctor rubbed her eyes and sat up on the sofa, feeling aching limbs protesting at the movement after being still for so long. 

‘How long was I…?’

‘In total? Almost 24 hours.’

The Doctor blinked blankly at her, and Yaz put her book down. 

‘You know we’re here for you, right?’ Yaz said softly. ‘Whatever you need, we’re here.’

‘I know,’ the Doctor said quietly, and Yaz tilted her head at her. 

‘Do you?’

The Doctor dropped her gaze down to her wrists, still supported in their splints. She gave them an experimental twist. Almost healed, but not quite yet. The splints would have to stay on a little longer. 

‘Doctor.’ 

Yaz’s hands in her own were gentle, mindful of the broken bones, and when the Doctor looked into her face she saw only love and concern in her eyes.

‘You broke both your wrists to set us free,’ Yaz said gently. ‘That’s a little bit mental.’

‘It was the only plan I could come up with,’ the Doctor admitted. ‘And I knew you wouldn’t let me if I told you.’

‘Damn right we wouldn’t,’ Yaz said. ‘Friends don’t let friends break their bones.’

The Doctor found herself unable to respond and she looked into the fireplace. It was now only charred and black coals, ash that needed sweeping collecting at the front of the grate, and she was grateful her friends hadn’t restarted it. 

‘You didn't seem to like the fire very much the first time,’ Yaz said, noticing where she was looking. ‘We thought it best to leave it off.’

‘Thank you,’ the Doctor murmured. 

‘Which surprised us, considering one of your favourite things for us to do in the evening is build a blanket fort in the library and get a fire going,’ Yaz continued. 

The Doctor wasn’t really sure what to say to that. How could you tell your friends (who didn't even know the full story) that fires now only served to remind her of what was left of her once shining home planet.

‘It was a bit hot,’ she lied instead, and Yaz looked disappointed by her answer. 

Yaz stood, brushing down her knees, and looked pointedly at the Doctor. 

‘Well move up then,’ she said. 

The Doctor shuffled and Yaz sat down beside her, tucking her feet up neatly underneath her. 

‘We care about you too much for you to think you can get away with being this destructive,’ Yaz said gently. ‘The next time you’re exhausted, or you’re planning on breaking your wrists, tell us first. Please.’

The Doctor opened and closed her mouth. Yaz held her gaze, and after a moment she nodded. 

‘She awake?’ came a voice from the doorway, and Graham appeared with a plate in his hand containing - mercifully - 

‘Is that a fried egg sandwich?’ the Doctor asked, her mouth suddenly watering as she realised she was starving. 

‘Hot off the press, Doc,’ Graham said, presenting it to her with a flourish. ‘Or frying pan. You done sleeping for now?’

‘Yeah,’ the Doctor replied, taking a bite of sandwich and catching the warm smile Yaz was giving her. ‘Yeah I am.' 

  
  



End file.
